


The Tale of a Fairy and Her Specialist

by TheseStoriesAreWrittenOnMyHeart



Category: Fate: The Winx Saga (TV), Silrah
Genre: Angst, Best Friends Forever, Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Golden Trio FTW, I love this trio, Implied Relationships, No Gore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Ben Harvey, Protective Farah Dowling, Protective Saul Silva, Show Spoilers, Smut, Sweet, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseStoriesAreWrittenOnMyHeart/pseuds/TheseStoriesAreWrittenOnMyHeart
Summary: The bond between a Fairy and a Specialist is born of trust, skill, and eventual friendship. Sometimes, it evolves into something more.They've been a team since they were mere first years, battling homework and training. Then they grew to defeat Burned Ones and one they once believed an ally. A lot happened before and after the fall of Aster Dale, not all of it easy but all of it chapters in their story.The world was about to change once again, and the sheer level of uncertainty was mind blowing, but they were still a team, and his hand in hers, and her lips on his were the things that made their strength and power sing in the blood, and their burdens that much easier to carry; made home not just a place, but a person.
Relationships: Farah Dowling & Ben Harvey & Saul Silva, Farah Dowling/Saul Silva
Comments: 191
Kudos: 305





	1. Ashes to ashes

**_Sixteen Years Ago:_ ** **Aster Dell**

Ash falls from the sky as though it were rain, but instead of cleansing, it accuses. Each gray swirl that rests in her hair, and along her shoulders weighs her down. It isn’t until her knees hit the still warm earth that she takes in a gulp of air. 

She murdered them. 

There are charred bodies all over the once luscious land, hands curled and covering faces or holding loved ones, a position of fear and confusion, or love and protection. It will stay with them forever. 

It will stay with _her_ forever. 

_How could Rosalind do this?_ Farah shook her head and stood, anger simmering just beneath the control she’s always been so good at keeping. 

_We should have questioned her. I should have questioned her._

The nausea that hits is overwhelming, but she pushes that away, too. She’ll deal with it all, later. Right now, she needs to assess, understand, and plan. Ash coats the back of her mouth, and she spits, running her dry tongue along even dryer lips, wiping the back of her sleeve along her mouth. The tears are there, just beyond, and she takes another breath, steadies herself, and holds her palms down and out towards the wreckage. Her hazel eyes turn to the blue of a spring sky and she waits. 

And waits. 

She hoped she’d feel something. Anything. But all she receives back is brutal, final silence. She’s staggering along a stone wall that used to be a home, or a market stall, her hand grateful for the solidity of it, grateful that it's there to keep her standing, when she feels it. There’s a tug in her chest, behind her rib cage, and the heel of her right hand rubs along her sternum. 

_Saul._

Farah knows that tug; felt it in moments where his training has gone too far, when his anger would get the better of him, when he’s looking at her and thinks she doesn’t feel the heat in his gaze, or the one time an enemy managed to slide a blade between his armor. The bond between a Specialist and Fairy is one of unequivocal trust. 

Roots and bones seem to grab at her feet, slowing her down and all she can think is, _not him, too._ Cresting the smaller hill, the demolished city now behind her, she sees him kneeling, sword on the ground at his side, shoulders and head slumped forward. Farah pulls on that bond, and her hand trembles when he doesn’t move. Everything she’d felt only moments ago is coming to the surface, and just before she is about to let it all go, and turn even herself to ash, his head snaps up and turns in her direction. 

Their eyes meet just before she collapses to the ground, just as he leaps from his position. She’s so tired. And she knows, _she knows_ that she has to gain control and make a plan, but it's all too much. Ben stayed with Rosalind, and Farah knew she would never forget the fear and confusion in Ben’s eyes after the city was blown apart. It had been too easy. Just before Farah decided to go down to Aster Dell, she and Ben silently communicated that one had to keep an eye on Rosalind. After they called the lightning and fire, Farah felt that something wasn’t right. Ben, out of the four, was the one Rosalind thought didn’t have the makings of a warrior, so she’d never suspect he’d turn on her. 

Saul stopped in front of Farah and collapsed, their knees touching, his quick breaths pushing loose strands of honey colored hair against Farah’s cheeks. When she finally took him in, she saw the dirt and blood, and held her hand out, palm up to him. He never took his eyes off her while he placed his hand on top of hers and gently cupped the back of her head, bringing their foreheads together. He let her reach inside, to see for herself that none of his wounds were life threatening. She could see what happened with Andreas, the moment that Saul realized what the actual plan was, and her heart broke for him. Farah’s caress was gentle, reverent, and once satisfied they separated. 

“She lied,” Saul’s voice was steady and it reinforced some of that steel back into her spine; she was never alone, not while she had him. 

“I knew there was something wrong after we struck,” her voice was a mere whisper, but the shake she expected in it was nowhere to be found. She met his gaze, “she lied about everything, Saul. The practices, the missions, her relentlessness, it was all for this. She planned this and told me nothing about it. I suspected nothing,” the word was a sharp whisper, “about it.” Farah took a breath, “If there were Burned Ones here, they're most certainly gone, but this was also a city that…” her voice broke then and his dirt caked hand cupped her cheek. She leaned into it. 

“You need to bind her.” 

She pulled away from him, shaking her head with wide eyes. Binding was a last resort, when all other magic had been tried and tested and found lacking. 

“We all did terrible,” he squeezed his eyes shut and went on, “terrible things here today. Because she,” he opened his eyes and there was a sheen to them that wasn’t there a moment ago, “lied to us.” Farah didn’t need her magic in that moment to know what he was thinking or feeling. 

“Andreas-” she placed her hand on Saul’s armor, just above his heart, “I’m so sorry, Saul.” 

“He drew his sword first against a member of his own team.” His shoulders fell, “he knew what was set to happen and still he followed her orders.” He sighed, “Orders or,-”

“-or morals,” Farah’s face softened at the motto she’d heard a million times. 

She sat back on her heels, the weight of the day making her shoulders tight and her head heavy. Rosalind is -was- her mentor, to bind her after this would be the right course and offer them time… but it would take a large amount of magic and she’d need Ben’s help. They’d need a story, something the three of them would take to their graves. 

They’d have to repair what was done here today. And it would take years, decades, centuries even until it was made right, she knew that. 

As they made their way back to the top of the hill, Farah could tell that something was wrong. Ben’s shoulders were pulled inward and worry was etched clear across his face. Rosalind’s back was to them, her face breathing in the salty, sea air. That was the first time Farah saw the despot that her mentor truly was; it was as though, in the fading embers and setting sun, every facade had been burned away. 

“Are you alright?” The lack of concern was evident. The woman knew there was no longer a need to play pretend. Rosalind kept her back to them which granted Farah the moment she needed. Rosalind most likely thought she could manipulate her way out of this one. Farah squared her shoulders. Never again. Her eyes burned brightly and she watched as Ben’s shoulders relaxed. 

_“Do you trust me?”_

His eyes met hers and she didn’t need to hear him say or think it. Her dear friend, the one with the softest of hearts, content to be in the library or his greenhouse, helping things grow, would be with her whatever she needed. Farah held her hand out to him, thanking Rosalind in that moment for the greatest lesson she taught them: they were stronger _together_. 

_“Close your eyes,”_ she sent to Ben and Saul. And as the two faeries held hands, their magic becoming one, Saul strong and solid behind them, Rosalind turned, and was knowcked out before she could even call her power. 

Farah and Ben’s magic created an ice blue chrysalis around the older Fairy, and despite their hate and anger towards her, they lowered her gently to the ground. Hands still holding tight, Farah pulled Ben to her in a hug, and her heart broke when she heard his first sob, and she knew Saul heard it too when he brought his arms around his friends. 

After a few moments, Ben said, “We have to get her back to the school.” He removed his glasses to wipe his eyes, “we don’t know what’s out there and we’ll need stronger runes to keep her from getting free.” 

A chill ran up Farah’s back that wasn’t just from the darkness that started to creep in, but from the thought of just what Rosalind would do once, or if she ever woke. Saul’s hand was strong and warm along her lower back, grounding her here and now. “Can you two get her to the car?” Farah looked up at him, the question in her eyes. He cleared his throat, “I want to go back for Andreas.” 

She gave him a small nod and he turned in the direction where their friend took his last breath. 

“Where’s Andreas?” Ben’s voice was small and hoarse, as though he’d screamed for hours. 

Her chin dropped to her chest as she took a deep breath. A wind picked up and with it carried the scent of fire and death, and somewhere in there, parchment and wet earth: her and Ben’s magic leaving this place. 

Farah jutted her chin in the direction of their former mentor and Headmistress, “help me with her and I’ll tell you on the way.” 

When they met back at the SUV, her heart dropped at the sight of Saul, without Andreas. 

“He’s gone. There were scorch marks,” he shook his head, his confusion evident, “they weren’t there before and now he's gone.” Any Burned Ones that weren't in the city could have smelled the blood and went for him, his body would be lost to them, and to his son. 

He finally looked at them when he felt a large hand come around his forearm. “Let’s go home.” Saul gave a deep nod to Ben, and climbed in the SUV after him. Farah sat in the back, Rosalind’s head resting on her lap, the magic keeping her bound, bright and strong. 

Saul’s head fell back against the headrest, “I need a shower and to sleep for a year.” 

He heard Farah hum behind him, the sound dancing along the back of his neck. “As tempting as that sounds, our work is only beginning.”

Saul closed his eyes and knew she was right. They had to contact Queen Luna, explain what happened, and explain the loss of Rosalind. Though he tried to fight it, sleep took him on their trek back to Alfea, his last thoughts being that so long as he had his friends beside him, they’d get through this. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Alfea: Present Day**

“I chained it up in a barn outside the barrier.” Her back was to him, arms crossed as though warding off the chill that hadn’t left since she faced the Burned One. 

“You should have killed it.” 

“And left it in the human world,” the idiocy of what he implied was in her tone. It’d wreak havoc on that world and bring unnecessary attention to theirs.

“You should have brought it here and _then_ killed it,” he amended. She turned to him, surprised at the disappointment and anger in his voice, using the dimness of the room to cover the fact that she knew he was right. 

He looked away and then back at her face, his voice urgently quiet, “did it break your skin?” His eyes took in every part of her, urgent and scared but still held the heat of a person who knew what lay just beyond the fabric. 

Her eyes met his and her voice softened as she said, “no I’m not infected,” she moved beyond the moment, this new discovery refusing to let her enjoy Saul’s gaze, “I got Ben to make up more oil from the Zanbaq flowers in the greenhouse. He said it won’t be conscious for hours.”

“I..I…” Saul shook his head, obviously angry at her for thinking of putting herself in this monster's mind. 

“I need to get in it's head, we need to know if this is an isolated incident or anything more.” They had to be prepared, the last time they weren't, thousands died. 

He tilted his head to catch her gaze, his eyebrows raised, “anything more? Like what?” His arms were sentinels across his chest, guarding him from what, she wondered. 

“I found a changeling in the first world,” the words came tumbling out as though they waited years to break free. The moment they were out she felt simultaneously relieved and scared at what he would do or say. 

He took a deep breath and titled his head towards the ceiling, eyes closed. “A changeling,” he nodded and silently cursed whatever God’s were listening to give them just one break, “I haven’t heard of one of those for centuries.”

“Yet, there she was,” she swallowed, “left sixteen years ago, right around the time the last Burned One was spotted.” 

She watched his face and the slight widening of his eyes as he said, “You think it's all connected."

“I’m struggling, Saul. Rosalind kept so much from us.” He watched as her carefully constructed mask of control started to slip, and she must have felt it because she turned from him, back to the window. “I’m worried about the students. The Alfea they know is very different from the one we attended,” she shook her head, more strands of her long hair coming free from the pins, “they have so much life to experience.” 

He knew, just as she did, the childhood they lost during their time at Alfea. It was all training and practices, preparing from the first year with your Specialist or Fairy, preparing for a war. He took a step closer to her, his arms still crossed. She could feel the heat of him along her back, smell the soap from the shower he had before coming directly to her. His hair was still damp when he came storming into her office. 

“Even if this world was safe, what they're going through can feel impossible. But this world isn’t safe. And I don’t know how long we’ll be able to protect them from it.” She paused and looked back at him, “I know you feel it, a shift…” 

His head dropped and it was enough of a confirmation. 

“They’ve had order for so long they don’t know what chaos feels like,” she turned back towards the moonlit meadow, hands on the cold wooden table and heard him say, “they might know soon.” They stood like that for a few moments more, each in their own thoughts. She hadn't known he moved until his voice danced along the back of her neck. 

"You never leave here, to track anything like that again, without me." A step closer. "Ever, Farah." 

She closed her eyes and let herself lean back a fraction of a step, and felt the hard plane of his chest. "I can take care of myself, you know,” she heard him scoff, then felt a large hand rest on her left shoulder, as a finger from his free hand traced the line between neck and shoulder. She shivered. They don’t touch like this often, not this intimately. The occasional hand over hand to halt a thought and remind you that you’re not alone, the closeness with which they stand, always grazing one another’s body, and sometimes the hand at the small of her back. 

But not like this. Not for some time. 

He took a step forward and said, "You're the most powerful being I've ever known," his finger never stopped tracing an imaginary line up and down the corded muscle of her neck, going further up and down with each swipe. "And I know you could handle it. But I couldn't." 

Her gasp made him stop and take a step back. She turned, and prayed that in this light, he didn't see the blush along her cheeks and neck, or the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She was grateful to the moon at her back that allowed her to see the dilation of his pupils. Farah wasn't the only one affected by their closeness. "Saul," she stepped to close the gap again, "I always want you there with me,-"

"Just not this time."

"It all happened so quickly-"

"Do you know what would have happened if it had gotten you, what I would have,-" his voice broke off and he turned from her. He ran his hand over his face and walked away from her, towards her desk. The space between them may have been continents. 

His back was to her now, as she made her way to him slowly, "we have to get a handle on this," though what she meant by 'this' could have been the Burned Ones or whatever it was that simmered between them. 

He stood up straight, taking it as the latter and turned to meet her gaze. "I understand, Headmistress."

Her shoulders fell at the title, "Saul, please just give me time,-" 

"Sixteen years…" he ran a hand through his hair and side stepped her to get to the door. "We'll go see it tomorrow. Together." There was no room for discussion, and Farah could see his jaw working, along with the tension that sat along his shoulders. 

She felt exhausted, confused, and angry; the only thing she could manage was a curt nod. Once the door was closed and Saul on the other side, she collapsed into an armchair, and let the tears fall.

Tomorrow. She'd pull herself together tomorrow, in time for whatever they'd face. But for now, in the quiet of her office, the moon high in the sky, she let herself fall apart for Bloom, for the fear Farah felt at the Burned One not far from the school, and for herself and the man who still held heart. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm a day early and that is because I have read over this chapter at least 1,000 times, and I need to set it free or I'll go crazy. 
> 
> In this chapter, we start off in the past: three months after the events we saw at Aster Dale, and we get a closer look at Farah and Saul's past, their relationship, and some sexy times! Then we jump to present day which is the beginning of episode two (to just before Saul comes back injured by the Burned One- that will be in the next chapter). 
> 
> This chapter on my word document was about 17 pages and just over 7,000 words. It's a big one.
> 
> I own absolutely nothing. All of these characters belong to the original creators, and to Netflix. The only thing I own are the pieces of their story that come directly from my mind. That, and a lot of books.
> 
> *All mistakes are my own. No beta.

Three Months **A** **fter** Aster Dell

The time for mourning had come and gone, and they all adjusted in their own ways, to this new world. Rosalind’s office was emptied by Farah, Saul and Ben. The trio refused to let anyone else go through her things, hoping to find information about her plans for and after Aster Dell; and though there were multiple correspondence letters between Rosalind and Luna, there was nothing that showed an obvious plan for Aster Dell. The trio also wanted to keep those in the former Headmistresses office to the three of them so they could transport her bound body to a space deep within the bowels of the school. Ben and Farah worked tirelessly on the wards to keep her in place and anyone from getting inside. 

Rosalind’s possessions were put in the abandoned east wing, her class schedules temporarily reassigned to other staff, and her photo in the Main Hall was replaced with one of the new Headmistress: Farah Dowling. The decision had been fairly obvious and supported by Queen Luna. The shift was quick. Farah was surprised at how helpful Luna had been. The Queen made the decision to cover up what happened at Aster Dell, agreeing that the choice to bind Rosalind was the best course of action. They were grateful that she hadn't put up much more of a fight about what transpired and the actions afterwards.

Farah had been difficult to find today, and the moments that Saul caught her, heading back from the Stone Circle or walking through the canteen, he’d turn a corner and she’d be gone. It was during his night patrol before bed that he found her, staring at her photo on the wall as the clock hand neared eleven. These last few weeks were taking a toll on her. He could see it in the way her head tilted to the right, a sign of a headache coming on, in the tightness of her shoulders and neck, the circles under her eyes. Saul wished he could take it from her, ease her burden. But he also knew she was stubborn and she would have to be the one to come to him. She could handle it, and if she did fall, he’d be there. 

Farah stood stock still, eyes not really taking in the photos on the wall, just boring through the stone and earth behind them. She had yet to notice him, so lost in her own thoughts, that Saul stopped to take her in. Her sleeveless, black dress showed a small waist and the expanse of her hips, but still respectful. The gold zipper that ran the length of the back of the dress made him clench his teeth with the sudden desire to free her from the garb. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm. It had been some time since they were last together, and he refused to be another thing to weigh her down. Not now. 

As he settled in beside her he could see her signature coat had been thrown along an armchair. She had taken to wearing them almost all the time, another form of armor, another way to help keep control. It went with the new hair styles and carefully curated expressions. Even her office -though personal touches could be found in the pillows and candles, the books from her personal library, and the potted plants (gifts from Ben)- seemed to hold parts of someone new. 

When Farah formally accepted the position of Headmistress, she explained that she’d have to become what the school and students needed: structure, stability, and reassurance. These months created a new persona. One he liked and respected, but he ached for the Farah who ran with her hair loose and free around her face, the one who laughed and teased, the one who would run her hand along his side and kiss him breathless against the greenhouse walls. 

Saul's line of thinking was going to get him in trouble. He sighed, and turned to face her. The only light in the room was coming from a small orb, casting varying shades of blue along the wall and the side of Farah’s face. He watched the light dance over her skin, until he saw a tear travel the curve of her cheek. 

“Farah,” his voice was a whisper and before he could do anything, she hugged him, her arms tight around his neck. Saul took a deep breath, bringing with it a smell that was uniquely her; parchment and honeysuckle. His hands instinctively came up around her, one rubbing gently along her back and he could feel her shoulder bones (he’d have to ask Callum to schedule her lunch hour with him for the next few weeks). 

They stood like that for a few minutes, until she spoke. 

Saul rubbed his cheek along the top of her head, “Say that again, love, I couldn’t hear you.” The endearment slipped past his lips before he could catch it. He wondered if she did. 

“I’m tired," her voice was deep, and her breath tickled the side of his neck, her nose cold against his skin as she shifted and it grazed his Adam’s apple. She held onto him tighter. 

He squeezed back, “You take it all on, all inside,” he tapped the side of her head, “and you forget that you’re not alone.” He quickly kissed the top of her head, “You have me, Farah, and Ben. Let us take some of this on with you.” 

She stayed quiet after that, but he could tell some of her tension dissipated. Delicate, nimble fingers began to play with the hair at his neck, and he let go of her, smiling at her sound of protest, to move his hands along her shoulders. The pads of his fingers dug into the tight muscle, as his thumbs stroked along her neck. Farah tensed for a moment, before her eyes closed and a sigh of pure contentment left her lips. 

Her hands came to rest on his hips, her thumbs moving without thought along the waistband of his pants. 

“Tell me,” he whispered. 

He could see in the micro-expressions on her face that she was trying to think of where to start. “Luna is a bitch.” 

His laugh echoed off the walls of the empty hall and his hands stopped. When he looked down at her it was the first true smile he’d seen in months. “I believe she is to be referred to as Her Royal Highness?” 

“I believe you were doing something before you so rudely stopped,” she shrugged her shoulders once and he got the hint. She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder. “Luna’s been nothing but trouble since Aster Dell, questioning me at every turn.”

“She is Queen, and with everything that's happened..."- Rosalind, Aster Dell- "she’s most likely trying to process.” Saul’s hands left her shoulders to focus on her neck and the spots at the base of her skull. She moaned, the sound deep and grateful and he felt it in the pit of his stomach. 

Her fingers tightened on his waist. “It's not that, there’s something else, I can feel it. She was always so open and friendly, and since this all came about she’s been cold, completely shut down, and will only speak with me through light projection.” 

“She has a lot going on with running Solaria and having a one year old, Fa,” the nickname made her smile, “but trust your instincts, you’ll figure it out.” 

“Hmm..at what cost?” She lifted her head and looked at his face, his hands fell from her neck and rested at his sides. “All I think about is what else we weren’t told. What else I need to know to keep everyone safe.” Her fingers started to twitch and he could feel her magic coming to the surface, “what if something happens to these students, and Alfea, if we’re not prepared?” Her eyes were a blaze with worry, sparking blue, “all the lies and all the unknowns, it's too much.” She turned from him, grabbing her coat, the sound of her heels loud on the tiled floor. 

He forgot how fast she could be. 

“Farah!” 

She didn’t stop, so he jogged to catch up with her...she was already in her office, and had her hand up to close the door but he made it through just in time. It would have slammed in his face if she weren't so tired. 

“No, you can’t let yourself,” he struggled for the word, “ _release_ like that and then do what you’ve done these last three months. I won’t let you.” 

She threw her coat across her desk, “And _what_ exactly have I done, Saul?” She sneered and swiped at her eyes, “and _let_ me? Who are _you_?” 

He ran his hand over his mouth, “Your friend, Farah. Someone who cares about you. Gods, I’ve watched as you’ve packed up the woman you were and replaced her with someone else,” he held a hand out in her direction, “I know I will never understand your magic or how much you have on your plate but I do know that if I let you continue to pick which pieces stay out and which gets closed into one of those boxes you keep in here,” he tapped his head, “I’ll never get you back.” He straightened and took steps towards her, “I need you here, with me. Every piece of you.” 

He stopped when he was right in front of her, and brushed hair that had fallen from her bun, back behind her ear. He noticed that tears had fallen over her cheeks and used his thumb to brush them away, too. “The pieces I was blessed enough to have you share with me in first year, the ones,” his fingers ghosted down her bare arm and he watched as goosebumps rose in their wake, “the ones that are hidden from everyone else, the ones you don’t let yourself think on, the ones that are light and magic, and these new pieces, I need them all.” 

Saul realized his fingers were tight around her wrist, and went to let go but she was quicker, and took his hand in hers. 

“Saul,” her voice broke on his name and he was certain that in that moment, if she turned him away, his heart would follow suit. 

Farah closed the gap and positioned their hands so it was a proper hand holding. When she spoke, her voice was steady but soft, “I’m fighting myself, Saul. Everyday it's a struggle to figure out which face I’m going to wear or if I’ll make the right decisions, and it's driving me crazy.” Farah released a humorless chuckle and lifted her free hand to Saul’s face, her thumb caressing his cheekbone and jaw, “the only reason I stay grounded, the only light I have that keeps me moving forward, is you.” Her eyes slowly traveled from their spot on his chest to meet his own. There was no mask here, no facade, just Farah. “I need every piece of you, too, love.”

He smiled...so she _had_ heard the slip. 

He brought their foreheads together like that day at Aster Dale. “Then stay with _me_ , Farah,” he heard the breath taken before her words, and he put a finger over her lips, “in whatever capacity you have. I’m not an idiot, despite what Ben thinks,” she let out a small laugh and the sound spurred him on, “I know it’ll be difficult especially now, but I’m here, always, for you. I will wait here for _you_.” 

Farah pulled away and placed her hands on his cheeks, her thumbs smoothing out the deep V that formed between his eyes. She moved forward and kissed him. It had been six months since he last felt her lips; a stolen moment taken behind a copse of trees before they tore Aster Dell apart. He knew since the first time he kissed her during third year that he'd never forget the softness of her lips, or the way she always tasted like starlight and a winter’s fire at the same time; or the way she’d moan when he would tug on her hair to deepen the kiss. 

It wasn’t until she began to ease away that Saul sprang into action and pulled her back to him. Where the first kiss was chaste, this was passion; months and years of nothing more than stolen moments, a chance at happily ever after lost to war and duty. It was here that he promised himself to keep her grounded, to give them both moments like this, even if it was just to unload that which was weighing them down, even when all he wanted was to claim her as his, to leave and start a life that was just theirs, to be deserving of her and her love until his last breath left his body. 

But as Farah’s tongue stroked his, all he could think about was here, and now. 

One of her hands was fisted in his hair, keeping him in place while the other was trying to remove his jacket. She needed both hands to do it and it seemed as though she didn’t like the idea of extricating herself from him, so with a quick flick of her fingers, his blazer was on the floor and the buttons to his pants were open. 

“Cheeky,” he said, biting her lip and moving to kiss her neck. 

“Useful,” she retorted, the smile evident in her tone. Her hands began lifting the hem of his shirt and he, as always, followed her lead. He pulled the sweater off, and hissed as cold hands ran along his pectoral muscles, skimmed over the scars that littered his body. The groan that left his mouth was primal, and came from the depths of his chest as her tongue found the jagged scar that started from just under his rib cage and ended below the waistband of his pants. She followed it down, and he watched her through hooded eyes as she tucked her fingers into the jeans, and pulled them down. 

He shucked off his shoes and stumbled as he tried to free himself, his phone falling to the floor, and the whole spectacle earned him another loud laugh from Farah. He cursed the blasted garment, but stopped when he saw her lift her arms to the zipper at her back. 

“Don’t.” The word was nothing more than a growl, his hand out in front of him, and he watched with pleasure as her eyes momentarily sparked blue and her hands stilled. Saul swallowed and he saw her eyes track the movement, as she brought her arms back to her sides. 

He finally removed the pants and stood before her in nothing but black briefs, the hard outline of him obvious. Farah’s eyes ran the length of him, and as she settled her gaze on his cock, she licked her lips. 

“I am wearing,-”

“-far too many clothes, yes,” he said as he invaded her space, could feel the cotton against his chest, “but I’ve been wanting to do this all day.” 

A perfectly sculpted brow rose at his admission, and he reached behind her, took a hold of the zipper, and brought it down. Once unzipped, Farah placed a hand on her chest to keep the dress from slipping away, and in that moment turned shy. 

“It’s been...a while…” her voice was tentative and scared, not of him but of what he would think of her. 

This woman, this warrior...it killed him that she couldn’t see just how spectacular she was. “You’re beautiful,” his hand went in her hair searching for the pins her knew were there, and freed her honey colored locks from their confinement, “brilliant, strong, stunning,” he whispered as he ran his hand through them, “perfect,” the last word said as he took her hand in his and dropped the dress to the floor. 

Farah had her share of scars, too. And she shivered as he traced them with his fingers, ghosting over the curve of a black, lace encased breast, down her sides, smiling when she tried to move away because she was ticklish. She was softer in some places, they both were, a gift that came with age. 

He’d have her no other way. 

Saul let one hand continue it’s trail along her body as the other reached behind her and undid her bra. Once that fell to the floor, he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, his cock twitching as her hand came to rest in his hair, and a moan escaped her swollen lips. 

“Gods, Saul…too long...”

He hummed in agreement as he ran his thumb over the wet bud, and he turned his attention to the other breast, and let his right hand dip beneath her panties. Her hand tightened in his hair and it was his turn to moan as he ran one finger along her slick opening. Before he had a chance to ask if she was sure, she spread her legs and brought his mouth up to hers. As her tongue met his, he slipped a finger inside of her, and she lifted herself onto the desk to allow him more room to move. 

Saul smiled against her mouth and slipped a second finger inside, fingers relentless and curling, the heat and tightness of her captivating. “I want to taste you,” his voice hoarse, as though his vocal cords forgot what it was to speak the things you want so freely. She opened her eyes, pupils blown black and bit his lip. 

“ _I_ want you inside me.” She raised an eyebrow, a challenge. He added a third finger and her head rolled back, eyes slamming shut. “Saul…” she warned. 

Her bark was replaced with a yelp as he threw her over his shoulder, and brought her to the couch. Saul set her down reverently, and watched her eyes widen when he brought his fingers, glistening with her wetness, to his mouth. He closed his eyes and smirked, “told you. Perfection.” 

The redness in her cheeks blossomed even more, and she lifted her hips to remove her panties and Saul followed with his briefs. 

As he settled himself on top of her, his left side taking much of his weight so as to not crush her, he ran a hand along Farah’s cheek and kissed her slowly, thoroughly. “I’d like to do this properly.” In response to the question in her eyes he clarified, “a bed.” 

Farah laughed, let her nails graze his chest until she finally took him in her hand. The feeling of him hot and hard ignited a hunger and passion in her that she forgot she could feel. “You could have taken me against a wall in the canteen,” she stroked lazily, feeling pride when his head fell forward and rested against her collarbone. 

“I wish you'd have-” he choked off and groaned as her thumb swiped the bead of cum at the tip, “...have told me sooner.” She took another long, slow swipe with her hand and he grabbed her wrist to halt her movements, “if you keep that up it’ll end before either of us would like.” 

He covered her, and settled himself between her thighs. He could see a layer of sweat coating her skin, and bent down to lick a strip along the taut muscle of her thigh. Saul took himself in his hand, met her gaze and saw her small nod, and pushed inside. Farah’s eyes closed and her mouth hung open, hands tightening around his wrists. 

It felt like coming home.

She was tight, and warm and so slick it took all of his self control to not lose it right then. As he started to move, a pace that was steady but slow, she rocked her hips in time with his, her heels pressing into his lower back; he leaned down to kiss her. 

“Saul…” her head shook along the cushion of the couch, and he began kissing her chin and her jaw, “more, please.”

He obliged, and hiked one of her long, limber legs over his shoulder, and tilted, hitting her in a spot that made her see stars. He rubbed his thumb across her clit and she whimpered, so he did it again. 

“Too close,” she moaned, her nails leaving half moons along his arms. 

He leaned down once again and whispered, “I’m right there with you. Let go for me, Farah.” He brushed his nose against her cheek and then tugged on her hair, baring her throat to him. As he bit along the muscle between neck and shoulder, an act he knew would require her to wear a turtleneck tomorrow, he felt her tighten around him, and he soon followed her over the edge.

Saul was so spent he didn’t catch himself before falling onto Farah. He made a move, but she stopped him. “Don’t, I like you right where you are.” Her fingers combed through his hair and across his shoulder. “You’re warm.” 

He pulled out of her, the loss immediate and he hated himself for the slight wince he saw cross her face. He watched as tissues flew to her, and she passed a few over to him so they could clean themselves up; sending them to the bin. Saul pulled Farah to him, and with her back to his front, he wrapped his arms round her, his chin resting on her shoulder as he covered them with a blanket. It was then that he felt the tug, deep in his chest. It was warm and comforting, and left a trail of heat with each pulse. Saul placed a kiss behind Farah’s ear, his lips lingering on her cooling skin, and whispered, “me too.” 

Their hands and bodies entwined, they slept. 

**Five-ish hours later…**

Farah was going to murder whomever was on the other side of that ringing. She hadn’t slept that well in months, most likely years, curled against Saul’s side, his hand having slid to the curve of her ass, she smiled. The ringing stopped for a moment, only to pick up again. 

As she stood, a hand stilled her, swift and sure. 

“Let it ring,” his voice was raspy, still sleepy and her chest tightened at how young he looked at that moment. He ran his thumb along the pulsepoint at her wrist. 

“It could be important,” she murmured, and brushed back his hair. 

Saul sat up and watched her walk, naked as the day she was born, only stopping to grab his jacket and wrap it around herself. He grew hard at the sight of her in his clothes. 

Farah picked the offending item up off the floor, “Ben, it is a Godsforsaken hour, what is wrong?” She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder as she ran a hand through her hair and twisted it to lay over one side. 

While she dealt with Ben, Saul found he was incredibly grateful for this view. On her, the jacket stopped mid thigh, (fabulous legs), her hair was past mid back, and her curls were riotous; she looked properly shagged. And happy. 

The voice on the other end was rather chipper for 4:17 in the morning. “Ah, good morning, Darling Dowling,” Farah rolled her eyes at the nickname, her lips forming a smile despite her annoyance at having been woken up, “but I was actually calling Saul.” 

Farah pulled the phone away from her ear and realized that she had indeed answered Saul’s phone. She held the object out for him to see and widened her eyes at the laughter that ensued. 

She put Ben on speaker, “well,” there was no point in trying to lie now, “he’s here.” 

“So cranky,” Ben said as he tried his best to hide a chuckle, “I thought I heard that getting one’s blood pumping is meant to act as an endor,-” 

“Benjamin,” Saul sang, “what exactly is it that you needed from me?” He stood and wrapped the blanket around his waist as he came to stand next to Farah. She leaned into him, and he smiled at the action. 

“I needed to go beyond the barrier to collect some cuttings, and you told me yesterday and I quote, ‘If you go out there alone, I will pummel you with your own shovel.’”

Farah covered her mouth to stifle her laugh, the impression Ben did of Saul spot on. 

Saul grabbed the phone from her, “Oy, that’s because you get so focused on your plants you lose sight of your surroundings!” 

“It sounded like a threat,” he cleared his throat, “Headmistress, I may need to file a complaint against Mr. Silva.” 

Her head fell back and she laughed, loudly and freely, tears springing to her eyes. “I have no idea how we trust the two of you to instruct children.” 

“Oy!” both men protested. 

Farah stepped up to Saul and let her hand rest on his back, “Does it have to be now, Ben?” Her fingers started to trail along his spine, and she could see his response growing under the blanket still around his waist, “or could you have him in…” she trailed off looking to Saul as he held up two fingers. “...could you have him in two hours?” 

“Gods help me...fine! Fine. But I swear if I see either of you brooding for the next few days I’m going to dose you with something and you’ll have deserved it.” 

He hung up. 

Saul threw his phone onto the chair by his side and picked Farah up, her legs wrapping around his waist, the blanket forgotten, and his intention clear and hard against her backside. 

“Two hours, soldier,” she licked along the muscle of his neck, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

**Present Day: Alfea**

The air smelled of rain and she tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat as thunder rumbled in the distance, the barn just beyond the barrier. They hadn’t spoken a word to one another this morning about last night. After he stormed out, she cried for what felt like hours, only making it to her suite a few hours before they were set to see the Burned One. 

There was a quick knock on her suite door, and when she opened it there he was, holding out a cup of tea. From the scent of it, it wasn’t one they carried in the canteen-he brewed it himself before he came to get her. She smiled in thanks and went to grab a coat, immediately pulling the collar up as they stepped outside. There was no awkwardness in their silence, and that came from decades of knowing one another. They understood what had transpired last night, what could have happened, but they both also knew the duty they had to Alfea. That would come first, and somewhere, she knew, something would happen and they’d combust. So lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize Saul moved closer to her. 

“It must’ve brought back memories, seeing a Burned One again after so long.” 

She pressed her lips together, “too many. The Blood Woods Massacre. Our excursions to Maraveat Falls.” She looked away, checking the barrier for any disturbances. 

He looked over to her left arm, his gaze lingering on the spot where the scar, though faded, was still a reminder. 

_They had been fighting for hours, and her magic was depleting. An enemy combatant came at her with a blade and as she raised her hand for magic, none came._

_Saul felt the blade through their bond as it sliced through skin and muscle, and then returned the favor with his blade in the beasts chest. He still has nightmares of her bleeding out on the field._

He looked ahead, “it feels like a lifetime ago.”

It was an opportunity to lighten the mood, and she turned towards him, “didn’t you keep a kill count?” 

The sword was solid against his back, his hands free at his sides as he looked over his shoulder to her, his mouth quirked up at the corner, “thirteen, personally.” She stopped walking and stared at him with awe, pride, and something else. “What?” He smirked, “as in my sword in its flesh,” he went back to walking towards the barrier. The sooner they got this done the sooner they could kill it. “I could never take one down entirely on my own, but apparently you still can.”

There was no anger in his voice this morning, so she scoffed and said, “I got lucky. It didn’t see me coming.”

“How much Zanbaq did you give it?” He climbed onto the small mound and almost slipped on the wet stones. 

“Enough,” she answered, as she held her palm to pass through the barrier, “it should be out cold”.

After she removed the wards, he opened the barn door for her and she went in head of him, eyes never leaving the scorched beast on the floor. Once inside, he stood right next to her, his heat blocking out the chill she felt from the incoming rain, and her own fear. They were right back on the battlefield again, relying on one another to do what needed to be done, and get out alive. 

She tugged, breathing easier knowing that bond was still there. 

Saul didn’t blink as he took in the monster in front of him. It fueled many of his nightmares and seeing one again, in the flesh, would no doubt fuel new ones. “What do you expect to discover when you’re inside its mind?” 

“Answers. I’ll sleep better knowing it's a lone wolf.” She couldn’t look at him then, knowing that if she did, he’d offer her the opportunity to walk out, and let him kill this beast. 

“And if it’s not?” He looked at her then, “if there are more?” 

She met his gaze, her answer obvious. His sigh was an urge for her to move forward. With each step she took towards it, Saul was right there with her, and as she bent down to face the Burned One, the smell of flames, earth, and decay filled her nostrils. She took a deep breath and called her magic, her palm facing the monster, the last thing she heard was Saul saying, “Just be careful, Farah.” 

The images came quickly, snapshots of it’s encounter with Bloom, the girl’s fear was bitter on Farah’s tongue, but before she could get beyond that moment, the Burned One lunged for her, as Saul was hauling her back, his arms tight around her middle. 

He pulled her out of the barn and locked it again, as Farah caught her breath. She was keeled over, hands on her knees, eyes closed. Once she had calmed herself down, her first clear thought was that he saved her, her second was that she needed to seal the barn with magic, and the third was that she could have died. 

Once the barn was secure, she turned to Saul. He was leaning against a tree, his arms crossed- she could see how tightly he was grinding his teeth. Farah walked towards him, and despite the coolness under the tree’s canopy, she knew the shiver she felt was from the intensity and emotion in his next sentence. 

“If I was a second slower, Farah, you would have been torn,” his voice cracked, “apart.” His eyes were downcast, his body a tight string. 

“I’m sorry, Saul. It was supposed to be sedated, I’ll have Ben,-” she was cut off when she heard the rush of footsteps coming towards her, and could barely take a breath before Saul’s mouth was on hers. 

His hands were in her hair, keeping her still, as he kissed her relentlessly. Her hands came up to grab his sweater, fisting the material as his tongue slid over her lips, begging for entrance. She obliged, and moaned as he stroked her tongue with his own. He released her mouth and began to assault her neck, kissing, and nipping with his teeth, then running his tongue along the abused skin. He needed to know she was alive, confirmation that her heart still beat and that she was here, with him. 

Her head moved to give him more room, as her hands slid along his chest. He lit her from within with each swipe of his tongue, his strength obvious in the way he was able to hold her in place, and when she closed the space between them, her leg wedged between his, she could feel him hard against the muscle of her thigh. The move made him release a wall of air. 

“You infuriate me,” he growled, as he kissed her under her chin, and then settled back along her lips, “you stubborn woman.” 

She chuckled, and then yelped as he bit her bottom lip; she pinched his side in retaliation. God she could have had this last night, if she just allowed herself...this, this magic between them would never extinguish no matter the time or the space. 

Saul placed his hand at the back of her head and brought their foreheads together. “I’m sorry, I just,” he let out a breath and she felt it danced across her lips and nose, “that was too close. Too close, Farah. Please-”

“We give it more sedation, and then I’ll consider calling Luna.” He pulled back so he could see her eyes, and she gave him a small smile, “you were right…” she trailed off, “...I just prefer that it’d be me.” 

“Thank you,” his voice was hoarse and she felt a stirring deep in her stomach. 

She took a step back and smoothed out her coat, her hand on his chest, doing the same to his sweater, “for kissing you,” her lips quirked up at the corner and her eyes danced, “no need to thank me for that.” She leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek, then whispered, “I’m sorry I scared you.” She kissed him again, “and last night, when I said we had to get a handle on this, I meant the Burned Ones,” she pulled away so she could look him in the eye, and placed her hand on his cheek, “never this, Saul.” 

His mouth fell open but he didn’t seem to have the words. She gave him one last, soft smile and said, “I’m going to see Ben and then I have class.” When she was a few feet away from him, he swore he heard her mumble, “fucking first day.” 

He chuckled as he waited for Ben. 

**Later that Day**

They hadn’t a chance to meet up and discuss next steps due to classes and training, so when he came to her she was just finishing up with some third years, and night was settling in. As she entered her office, she unbuttoned her coat, and she pursed her lips together. She swore she could still taste him from this morning, tea and hickory. 

Saul shut the door, “I spoke to my contacts in the other realms, and no other sightings of Burned Ones.” He stopped just in front of her. 

Farah released a sigh, “so ours was just a fluke?” 

“Maybe, but it’s a dangerous fluke,” his eyebrow raised, and she rolled her eyes as she turned away from him. “The capitol’s prison is more secure than ours, and the Queen would scan its memories if you asked.”

“This is my school, Saul,” her voice was low, the weight of those words obvious in her tone. 

“Yes, it's a school, and there’s already gossip, and it's only a matter of time before the kids cross the barrier to find it. Please, let’s do this right.” At that he got her attention. “Let me arrange with the Queen’s army to transport it safely.”

Farah leaned back against her desk and rolled her neck, the pops and clicks obvious signs of the tension she accumulated over the last few days. “You have to be careful, I can’t go with you.” 

Saul chuckled, “I can take care of myself, you know,” he threw her words back at her, but the smile he wore showed no bitterness or resentment. 

“I’ll be fine,” he walked up to her and ran his hand along her arm, “I’ll have the Specialists with me and we’ll drop this thing on her doorstep and then it's her problem.” He tapped her nose and he got a smile in return, and spun on his heel to head out. 

“Wait, you’re going now?” Her voice was laced with concern and what seemed to be frustration. 

He smiled at her wide and bright from the door, “the sooner I get this done, the sooner I can come back and we can talk about this,” he raised an eyebrow, “or at the very least _do_ something about it.” He gave her a wink and one final, lopsided smile. 

As the door clicked shut, Farah could feel butterflies in her stomach. Despite minor and major flirtations, they hadn’t really talked about what their relationship was. They knew from the beginning that they found one another attractive, but as time went on, they began to matter; they burrowed in deep and neither wanted the other out. She knew it was love, though neither said it aloud, and she knew that it wasn’t typical. She snorted and forced a breath from between her teeth. Nothing about them had ever been typical. Nothing about them could be explained. She knows, as Ben has tried to research their connection, with only a few pieces of archaic fairy magic even mentioning any type of bond. 

She and Saul had moments that found them sweaty and partially clothed, like the teenagers they were entrusted to care for and instruct. A definition, declaration or label was never necessary for them. It was always just there, it was always just them. The problem was that it was never all the time; there was never consistency. Their interaction this morning could be the last she tastes him for another year. She groaned, and ran her hand over her face. 

A soft knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts. She waved her hand and it opened revealing a disheveled Ben, holding a basket of what looked to be snacks. He held it up sheepishly and entered Farah’s office. 

“A text came in stating it was a Level 3 so I grabbed what I had on hand and came right over,” he settled himself on the couch and started to set up his stash. 

Farah rolled her eyes and her shoulders. “That’s not even a thing and he’s being dramatic,” Ben chuckled and she ignored him as she set her coat over the back of her chair. She whispered, “maybe not entirely dramatic..” as she pulled the pins from her hair and let it ripple across her shoulders and down her back. Farah could already feel the headache starting to fade. 

Slipping off her shoes, she settled next to Ben on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her, as she eyed what he brought. There was an unopened bottle of red wine, and the label told her it was her favorite, a few chocolate bars infused with honeycomb, raspberries, or orange; what looked to be a small cheese plate, and her absolute favorite: gummy bears. 

She went for the gelatinous treats first and Ben uncorked the wine to let it breathe. “You just keep this all on hand,” she asked as she popped a pineapple bear into her mouth, her hand waving over the goods, “for if I have a bad day? 

He opened the cheese plate and took a piece of cheddar and a cracker. “Mmmhmm…” he popped it into his mouth and chewed, leaning back against the couch. “It's not just a bad day, it's a level three.” He turned his head to look at her. “You look like a right mess.” 

She flicked his nose, “such a gentleman,” she took a handful of the snacks into her mouth, and murmured, “Saul would never say that to me.” 

“Ah...” he leaned forward to grab a slice of green apple with brie, “not to your face.” He got a zap of magic for that one. 

She remembered how they started the ‘Dowling System’, though they never had any actual data to back up what warranted a numerical value. It just became a way for them to communicate that Farah needed them. And they'd do whatever was necessary. 

_It was a Saturday during their fourth year. Ben and Farah were in the library, the space all to themselves as everyone else was out at the training grounds watching the matches. It was a tradition that towards the end of their final year, Specialists would fight in a “To the Death, but not Death” match. She would often go with the boys to watch and cheer on their friends, until this year. The lovely, observant Ben knew she wouldn’t be able to sit and watch as Saul fought, so he conned her into helping him study. They were reviewing poisonous plants when she felt a sharp, wicked pain. Her hand went to her head and she felt dizzy._

_“Farah?” Ben pushed the books out of the way and dropped to his knees in front of her, “you alright?”_

_“Something's wrong,” she murmured. She cried out as another pain went to her side, Ben caught her before she slipped from the chair and he gently placed her on the ground. His immediate thought was to get a professor._

_When he stood, she grabbed his wrist, “Please stay here, Ben. It’s Saul...it's strange.” She winced and he saw tears trickle from the corners of her eyes, “it's there, then gone and back again.”_

_All he could do was nod and hold her hand, while the other hand kept his magic on her, trying to ease some of her pain. He watched as she took it all, only managing to figure it out when Saul sauntered into the library, a wide smile on his face, hair plastered to his forehead._

_“Ben you owe me a bottle of Fire Whiskey and-” his voice stopped when he caught sight of Farah, and he flew to her side, knees cracking against the floorboards, as his hand went to cradle her head. “What the fuck happened?”_

_“Are you hurt?" Farah asked._

_He shook his head, “not a scratch. Matteo got some really good hits in but after the initial strike I never felt a thing.” He squeezed her hand, “it was like-”_

_“Magic,” Ben finished._

_That night they discovered that as a mind fairy she could ease someone’s pain. Her bond with Saul was so strong that she was able to feel his pain, and take it on_ **_for_ ** _him. Ben was the one who declared it a level 3, stating that she did what she thought she had to do, to keep Saul safe._

_“She was absolutely feral,” he later joked, once Farah was looked at and declared completely healthy. He went to get them some snacks and once he cleared the room, Saul kissed her breathless. She never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again for the rest of her life._

As she finished the last gummy bear she knew that Saul called Ben to keep her here, to keep her safe; from doing something that could result in either of them getting hurt, or the Burned One slipping away. 

They were each other’s blind spots. 

Ben nudged her with his shoulder, offering her a full wine glass. She took it in thanks and held it out to him; he mirrored her move. 

“He’ll be fine, Farah,” he took a rather large sip of the wine, “he’s not alone, and you know how strategic he can be,” he turned to her, “and you _know_ how he feels about the Burned Ones.” 

She nodded and sank back into the cushions. 

“He’ll be back before evening classes tomorrow and we’ll have to hear him regale us with some Specialist Hero bullshit.” 

Her laughter bounced off the walls and he soon joined her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::Sighs:: That was a lot. I really do love these two and the Golden Trio as a whole. <3
> 
> I would love to hear what you thought! Have a great weekend!
> 
> Sending sunshine and love,  
> Nicole


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This picks up in the middle of episode two when Beatrix tells Farah that Saul was attacked. It follows through to the end of episode two and all of episode three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of feels in this one. A lot. There was so much that was not given to us in the show, and I had to fill in those blanks. I know this is early, but honestly, I'm so ahead at this point, I wanted to post for you guys. AND, the more I look at a chapter the more I con myself into believing it's rubbish and almost scrap it. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. All of these characters belong to the original creators, and to Netflix. The only thing I own are the pieces of their story that come directly from my mind. That, and a lot of books.  
> *All mistakes are my own. No beta.

**Present Day: Alfea**

_Injured. Injured. Injured._

The mantra kept running through her mind and she found that in this moment, her magic wouldn’t come. She tried to call to it to calm her, but it was nowhere to be found. 

_"Uncontrolled emotions make magic erratic…"_ she knows the lessons, taught them enough times herself, and knew that until she calmed down, it wouldn't come. In its place was heavy, cold guilt and a running list of all the worst possible outcomes. 

Despite the urgency in her legs, and every molecule in her being telling her to, Farah didn’t run to the greenhouse. Students were already stopping to stare at the unmasked fear on her face. 

_Ben had him. Ben would take care of him._

The moment she burst thorugh the greenhouse doors her eyes were on Saul, and it was only then, as she cataloged the dirt and blood, that she felt the tug between them. The immediate rush of pain was overwhelming, and she watched as Saul barely held himself up, grimacing as the Zanbaq oil was coated on and into the gash along his back. 

Saul’s eyes already started to lighten, and she felt dread settle in the pit of her stomach. Those beautiful, expressive eyes were like fog on a moor. 

At the sound of his groan she said, “I should have moved it right away, had more soldiers..." The shake in her voice, obvious. 

“Guys..could we have the room...please?” He gasped a breath and added, “we’ll keep you informed.” 

Terra and Sky looked to Farah, then, and her quick nod had them scurrying out of there. Saul exhaled sharply and Farah could see that he was unable to hold himself up any longer. She grabbed him by the shoulder, her other hand cradling along his neck, as she eased his head onto her lap. The greenhouse was warm but did nothing to ward off the chill Farah felt in her bones. 

“It’s just us, Saul,” Ben’s voice was steady and sure, as he continued to administer the oil that would hopefully keep the infection from Saul’s heart. 

Farah couldn’t take her eyes off her Specialist.

“The Burned One was loose before we got there,” he took a heavy breath and met her eyes, “I saw someone...in the road…”

 _There was no way_ …”someone let it loose on purpose?” 

He gave her a nod and let his head fall back to her lap. Farah met Ben’s frightened gaze and took a deep breath. When she looked down at Saul she saw that his eyes were closed and his breathing evened out. 

“I laced the Zanbaq with a sleeping drought,” Ben said as he turned to his work table and set down the oil. Farah combed her hand through Saul's hair as Ben washed his hands, then cleaned his glasses. He rested his hand on the table and gazed at his injured friend. It was too close, and he knew that if he felt this awful about it, Farah was far worse.

“This isn’t your fault, Farah.” 

When she finally looked up she said, "I didn't feel the bond," Ben's furrowed brow pushed her to explain. "I didn't _know_ this happened, Ben." She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. "Why?" Her voice choked on the word. 

Ben opened his mouth and then closed it. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Gods, he was exhausted. "Your mind has been on a million things these last few weeks…"

"He's never _not_ on them-"

"I know," Ben held up a hand, his voice gentle and soothing. "I know, Farah. But preoccupation of the mind, especially for a mind fairy, can block out other stimuli or emotion." He licked his lips and cleared his throat, "you're tired. And that's okay."

She sniffled, “if I would have listened to him...if I would have _felt_ him...” she trailed off.

Ben kneeled by her, “we can’t deal with what would have or could have...just in the here and now. We know what happened and we plan accordingly.” His hand settled on her shoulder and he gave it a squeeze. “I’ll make more Zanbaq and you get the Specialists to head out there and kill it."

She didn’t move from her position, and Ben’s voice was gentle as he added, “he’ll be out for a while, and he’ll never forgive himself or me, if you run yourself into the ground. We look out for one another...” he turned away from her and mumbled, “the two of you are more trouble than you're worth.” 

Farah choked out a laugh. “Thank you, Ben.” He turned to look at her and she added, “for everything.” 

He shrugged, but in that movement was decades worth of friendship, of love and loss, of blood and laughter; they’d always be there. He went to get some pillows and blankets, knowing full well that Farah wouldn't leave Saul’s side. 

Ben wouldn't leave, either.

\-------------------------------

It was the pain that woke him. He could feel the infection burning through his veins, just beneath his skin, and when he went to move, he could feel that the gash bled through the bandages on his back and arm, sticky and wet. Saul could tell he was still in the greenhouse, the smells familiar and comforting, but the normal humidity was nowhere to be found, the temperature cooler than normal. 

Ben must have done that to keep him comfortable. 

Saul heard snores coming from the floor, and when he looked down, he found Ben. His friend created a makeshift bed out of some blankets and pillows he kept in a back room for the nights when he would crash in his office. 

He could see that Ben was tired, his breaths long and deep as he slumbered. 

It was the small whimper that made him fight the pain and sit up on the small couch. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw her, and felt that familiar tug. Farah was curled in a large armchair, one arm tucked under her head as the other tightened on her coat. 

He could feel her nightmare, and standing with great effort, stepped around Ben, making his way to her. 

“Farah,” he whispered. There was about ten feet between them and he exhaled sharply with each step. He tried again, “Farah.” 

She jolted awake, eyes blazing and Saul found himself encased in a funnel of blue magic. 

He held his hands up in front of him, “It’s just...me, Fa.” Her magic dissipated and he began to slump to the floor. 

“Gods, Saul, I’m so sorry.” She was on the floor beside him, one of her arms across his chest to keep him from fully collapsing. Her hand went to his forehead and he watched as she bit her lip, knowing full well that his fever returned. “You're burning, we need to get Ben to administer more Zanbaq.” She was talking quickly, “what are you even doing up?” 

“Don’t wake Ben, not yet. Please,” he hissed. 

She shook her head and helped him stand.

“You were…,” he groaned as he tried to get comfortable, in the armchair she just vacated, “...having a nightmare.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly as he found a position that didn’t cause blinding pain and met her worried gaze, “couldn’t have that.” 

Farah kneeled before him, her chin dropped to her chest, and she took a few breaths, “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey,” he placed a finger under her chin forcing her to meet his eyes, and he saw that she was crying. “Farah?” 

She let her forehead rest on his knee, and his hand went to the back of her head, gently massaging her scalp. “It was you,” she whispered, “the girls hadn’t found you in time...and,” she took in a shuddering breath, “the infection was too strong and moving too quickly, and by the time we got you here…” she sniffled, “it was too late.” 

His heart broke at the fear and desperation in her voice. “That’s not what happened, and,” he could feel her shaking, “Farah. Look at me.” 

There were tears streaming down her face. 

Saul brought his hand to her cheek and she turned her head to place a kiss in the center of his palm, then nuzzled into it. “I _am_ here,” he took her hand and placed it over his heart, the beat strong though a little fast. 

Farah ran her tongue over her lips, “if the battalion doesn’t find it…” 

He squeezed the hand that was still on his chest, “I have faith that they will, and if not…” he trailed off. He didn’t want to think about it. There were still too many things he wanted to do; lessons he had to teach Sky, morning coffees and late night chats with Ben, too many things left to say and do with Farah. He cleared his throat, “I refuse to think about it any further.”

“I’m sure I’ll think about it enough for the both of us.” 

He let his head rest against the plush cushion and added, “you also know this is not your fault, right?” Her lip trembled. His eyes widened and then scrunched together at the sight. “No, Farah….” he moved forward wincing as he placed his arms under hers...she got the hint and sat on his lap. 

He could see she was in the same clothes, and his heart constricted at the thought of her refusing to leave him. Farah’s arms went around his neck and she nestled into him, careful of his injuries. “If I had listened from the beginning this wouldn’t have happened, Saul. I should have killed it.” 

He placed a kiss on the top of her head, “this isn't on you.” She picked her head up and rolled her eyes at him. “It’s not. You had good reason for bringing it back, we did need to know if there were more of them out there.” 

His hand came to rest on her thigh, “it was for the safety of the school, for all of us that you did that. _You did not let this thing out_. That is on someone else. Do not hold the…” he trailed off and took a deep breath, “do not hold someone else’s blame.” 

She gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded. It was then that she noticed the sweat gathered at his temple and the hollow of his throat. “Shit, Saul,” she got off his lap, “Ben!” 

Farah was surprised to see that he was already on his way over to them, “you aren’t the quietest lot, and I set an alarm on my phone to administer the next dose.” 

The two of them helped Saul move back to the couch, to give Ben more room to work. Farah was in front of him, and Ben to his back, and he knew that with the two of them, he would get through this. They were his bookends, the two who kept him standing through some of his darkest moments. They would fight death itself to keep him here, with them. 

Despite the pain and discomfort at the wounds being cleaned and rebandaged, he found that he was starting to doze off. Farah’s hand was cool as she cradled his head, and as she shifted, letting him rest on her shoulder. Her fingers lightly scratched along his neck and his eyes were getting more difficult to keep open. 

Ben moved away after the new bandages were on, and the last thing Saul heard before he slipped into sleep was Farah’s voice in his ear, “I won’t lose you.” She sniffled, “we’ll fix this.” 

\----------------------------------------

A week passed since Saul was infected, and he went right back to work despite his friend's protests. All of their days were busy now, with training the first years and continuing the progress of the upper levels, classes with the fairies to control their magic, and making sure they had enough Zanbaq on hand should they need it. 

They were all exhausted, and you could see that it was bleeding into the students. Sky could barely keep focus in his lessons, Aisha was overwhelmed and second guessing herself, Beatrix was snippy and rude (more so than usual), and Bloom’s emotions were all over the place. 

Farah found herself wishing for years past where a term could be considered boring, and routine. 

In the last few days, Saul’s infection started to worsen. Though Zanbaq was keeping his pain at bay, the gashes turned black, and the infection was starting to become visible in his veins. It was the sight of those black lines that brought Saul to Farah’s office earlier that morning, to discuss his wishes for Sky. It was one of the hardest conversations she's had with him, the ache in her chest for the young man who regarded him as a father, and for the man in front of her, whom she knew loved Sky like a son. 

She gave him her word that she would follow his wishes and he gave her a sad smile as he left for another dose of Zanbaq. The moment he left her office, she locked her door and wept. 

\----------------------------------------

The battalion was dispatched to find the Burned One and they were on its trail. Marco and Noura were leading the group and Farah knew that Saul held them in high regard. It was the waiting that was the worst part. They had to go about their day, teaching and training and living, as though the life of one of their own wasn't hanging in the balance. The three of them agreed to meet in the canteen after hours, when Marco and Noura were set to check in. The table was covered in maps and lit candles, the phone on top.

Saul had his hands braced on the table, taking all of his weight...the day finally catching up to him. “Marco, give us an update. Are you still tracking the Burned One?” 

Farah chimed in, “where are you now?” 

“Clatville.” Saul pointed to the area on the map, “we missed the last attack by under an hour. We’re right behind it.” 

“Use the Vanya River. Burned Ones have difficulty navigating large bodies of water. “

“We know. It’ll be cornered by the morning.” 

Farah leaned over the table to make sure they heard her. She was so close, Saul could feel the heat from her body. There was gravel in her voice as she said, “we may not have till morning.” 

The urgency was understood as Marco responded, “we’ll call you when we get it.”

“Marco, just keep upda-” Farah went to grab for the phone when she heard Marco hang up, but Saul’s hand stopped her. She stared at his hand over hers, and then looked at him. 

He was hunched over in obvious pain, but he squeezed her hand and said, “they shouldn’t be on the phone.” 

She knew that. It used to be them on the other end of a call like that. “We should be out there with them,” there was fire in her tone as she turned away. Her hands were in her coat pockets as she tried to steady her racing heart. 

Saul straightened, “Not sure how effective I’d be, but I understand your frustration.” 

Farah turned back to him to apologize, but before she could, she noticed he looked about ready to collapse into the chair behind him. She was quick, her hands on his back and shoulder guiding him into the seat. 

“Marco and Noura are two of the best graduates to come out of Alfea,” Ben said as he entered the room, placing three shot glasses and a bottle of Fire Whiskey on the table. 

“Yes, but they’ve never had to face a Burned One,” she was agitated and anxious, “they don’t know what they’re up against. We do.” 

“Well, we decided to stay here and teach the next generation,” Ben responds, as he pours. 

Saul looked up at her, his eyes nearly white, “we’ve taught them everything we can, Farah. It’s time to trust them.” 

“I do. It doesn’t mean I like sitting here waiting,” she pulled out her chair, brought it closer to Saul, and let herself face him. “I feel like a glorified babysitter.” Both men laughed at that and she rolled her eyes, “don’t laugh at me, Saul.” She felt her heart leap at the sound of Saul laughing, and it gave her hope. They’d get through this and she’d get to hear him laugh for decades more. 

Ben leaned across the table, filling their glasses, “speaking of, isn’t tonight the Specialists’ annual debauched kegger?” 

The Fire Whiskey was autumn in a bottle and one of Saul's favorites. It was spice and musk, all heat. 

“I imagine they think we don’t know,” Saul raised his glass. 

“I imagine they think you didn’t start it,” Farah retorts and smiles. They downed their shots, and waited for news. 

\----------------------------------------------------

**The Trio's Third Year**

_It was during third year that Saul got the idea._

_He was exhausted mentally and physically, every day the same rounds of training, learning about the Burned Ones, fighting against one another, bandaging and caring for wounds just so you could go about it all over again the next day._

_They needed some fun._

_Considering the school was secluded from surrounding cities, he had to figure out just where that fun could be had._

_Turned out that one day, while venturing beyond the barrier with Farah and Ben, they discovered an old barn that was being used for storage. It was far enough from the school that the professors wouldn’t hear them, but close enough that should they need to, they’d be back beyond the barrier in no time._

_Farah had been worried about going beyond the barrier, but Saul argued that there hadn’t been a Burned One sighting near Alfea in months, and that they were all trained fighters, anyway. She heard the desperation in his voice for her to concede, and she did, already planning the additional wards and protections she’d put on the surrounding area with the other fairies._

_Farah ran her hand along a dirt and dust covered windowsill. “It’s not that enticing.”_

_Saul rolled his eyes, “we need this, Fa…” he kicked a watering can, “and with the two of you,” he gestured between her and Ben, “we could have this place cleaned up in no time.”_

_She placed her hands on her hips and stared him down, long, honey colored hair falling over her shoulders, ”Saul Silva, do you want us to be your magical maids?”_

_Ben snorted next to her, “I don’t look good in a dress, mate.”_

_“Ugh, can’t we just...please,” he stopped in front of the two of them and got down on his hands and knees, “can you please help me with this? We all deserve it.”_

_The two fairies looked at one another, “what's beyond dramatic?" Ben asked._

_"Annoying," she answered and took a deep breath, “get up, you idiot.”_

_He flashed her a megawatt grin and grabbed her cheeks, kissing her. “Thank you, you won’t regret this.”_

_Saul turned to Ben who held up his hand, “I’m good, and you’re welcome.”_

_Their dark haired friend clapped his hands together, “excellent. I’m going to head back to school and see about getting us provisions, and get the word out.”_

_Ben and Farah watched him leave and then surveyed the mess surrounding them._

_“Absolute bastard.”_

_Farah nodded and then got to work._

_It turned out that Saul was right. They all needed a night like this, where they could be teenagers, cut loose and relax. The kegger was absolute perfection._

_He sweet-talked Doris into supplying them with food and snacks, in exchange for Ben brewing her a drought for her back pain. The cases of Fire Whiskey, beer, and spirits came from a recent graduate with whom Saul still kept in touch. Everyone waited until after the final patrol at eleven that night, and once the all clear was given, they made their way to the barrier in small groups. It wasn’t the entire student body, as some declined the invitation, but a large enough amount showed that some of the party spilled into the surrounding woods._

_Farah and a few other fairies made sure to put up wards, and triggers in case anything decided to come their way and interrupt the fun._

_It smelled of wet earth and smoke, from an earlier rain and the bonfire up ahead, and if you were quiet enough, the chattering of birds and small animals could be heard._

_Light fairies magicked small orbs that looked like twinkling lights to fly across the space, changing colors in tune with the emotions of those around them. Some of the earth fairies managed to carve benches and chairs out of rocks and tree stumps, and everyone brought blankets and pillows to make the space feel cozy. There were beer pong tables set up along one side, food on the other, while the space at the back was for music and dancing; groups were milling about here and there; a smile on everyone’s faces and the tension that sat so heavily on the teens shoulders lessened._

_Saul lost sight of Ben and Farah a little while ago, Farah having gone to talk with two rough looking girls from her poisons class, while Ben found Alice by the food. On his own, Saul went to chat with some upper class Specialists. He had gotten close to Andreas, a fourth year, who was due to join the Battalion after graduation._

_Andreas was telling them about a perimeter check he went on earlier in the week when he stopped mid sentence. “Is that,” he slapped Saul’s chest in rapid succession, “is that Dowling?”_

_Saul turned and felt his mouth drop open. Dancing in the small space, surrounded by a few of her girlfriends, was a goddess. She must have been outside before coming in to dance, because her hair was damp, making the ends curl and that, combined with the heat inside the barn, made them riotous; begging for someone to wrap them around a finger and pull._

_Her jacket was forgotten and her baby blue V-neck t-shirt clung to her in all the right places. There was sweat along her collarbones and he could see it continue in the valley between her breasts, and her shirt was clinging to her stomach, defined muscles from hours of training for everyone’s eyes to see._

_Something coiled deep in the pit of Saul’s stomach and he felt his jeans getting tight._

_He continued to watch her move, the sheer freedom she was exhibiting made him glad that he followed through with tonight. It was a rare moment to see Farah Dowling let herself go, a beautiful moment, but rare. He licked his lips and soon felt the tug that connected them, but tonight it was laden with heat. Saul handed his drink to Andreas, who patted him on the back, and made his way over to her._

_Farah’s eyes were closed, and she was moving to the music, her body curving and rolling, and she didn’t stop or startle when she felt his hand come across her stomach and calloused fingers stroke the underside of her breast._

_He was hard behind her, in all the right places._

_“Took you long enough,” she leaned her head back so it rested on his shoulder, and he was mesmerized by her eyelashes fanning across her cheeks, the quick breaths that were escaping her lips, the way her hand went to the waistband of his pants, waiting for permission._

_He groaned and bit her earlobe, and placed her hand over him and gently squeezed. It was his turn to roll his hips into her._

_Her breath caught in her throat. “Where’s Ben?” she asked, her hand coming to play with his hair._

_He growled into her ear, "you're thinking about Ben, now?"_

_She chuckled. "I want to make sure he's alright if we disappeared."_

_They kept moving to the music together, their breathing becoming more ragged with each thrum of base._

_“He’s speaking with Rose in the corner.”_

_Farah smiled and hummed. “Good for him.” Ben had a crush on Rose for a little over a year and only began talking to her about three months ago. Farah could tell, even without her magic, that the red headed Specialist felt the same way about their bookish friend._

_Saul licked a stripe up her neck and turned her to face him, “Unless you want to give everyone a show, I suggest we find our way back.”_

_The smirk she gave him was wicked and wanton, as she grabbed his hand and pulled him from the barn. Someone whistled and Farah flicked a bit of magic in their direction, the loud, “Fucking hell” letting her know she hit her mark._

_Once outside the cold air was a shock, the regret of leaving her jacket behind strong, but the urge to have Saul was stronger. Still holding his hand, she brought him away from the barn until the sound of the music was nothing more than a muted drum. They were still within her protected barrier, but they had more privacy._

_She let go of his hand as hers moved in a circle around them. He watched in awe, as she used her magic, so sure of herself and so powerful; he knew she would someday take Rosalind’s place, and that as Headmistress she’d protect and lead in a softer way; in a way children deserved._

_He was incredibly lucky that he and Farah found one another, grateful to Head Specialist Monroe and the Headmistress that they were paired together._

_The pair found themselves encased in a blue circle, one he knew would keep them from prying eyes and ears. Farah turned her attention to the ground, and he watched as steam rose from the earth._

_She ran her hands over her arms, and then his, and he was surprised to find that he was no longer cold. “You never cease to amaze me,” he whispered as he brought their mouths together, and slipped his hand under her shirt._

_His fingers danced along her side and she giggled into his mouth. She pulled away to remove her shirt, and was stopped from continuing with her plan of getting him naked when she saw worry cross his face. His hand stopped on the bruise that was just along her ribs._

_“Why didn’t they heal this?”_

_“Saul, I’m fine.”_

_He bent forward to place a kiss on her skin, goosebumps raising in its wake. It happened earlier in the day during a simulation practice. They had both been off their game (exhausted), it took them four tries to kill the Burned One when it only took them once the day before._

_Her hand in his hair brought him back to her._

_This kiss was slow, and he followed her as she brought herself to the ground, only stopping to remove her bra. Saul took off his shirt, and he settled between her thighs. The earth was warm and dry beneath them, and he didn’t feel a rock, twig or divot anywhere. She’s brilliant, his Farah._

_His hand was gentle as it cupped around her throat, his thumb pulling at her lower lip. He could hear laughter and shouts coming from the direction of the barn. “I think I’m going to make this an annual thing,” at her raised eyebrow he added, “a tradition. We need it, and I’m sure those who come after us will need a break, too. Something to look forward to.”_

_“And what if you’re Head Specialist and I’m Headmistress, what will we do then? Let the students get rowdy in a barn?” She trailed her finger over his nose and he bit the tip of her finger._

_“We act as if we don’t know. Let them think we’re oblivious old people.”_

_She laughed and said, “you know, this was a great idea,” she sighed, “we all needed it. I needed it.”_

_He brushed his nose against her’s, “I have been known to have them.”_

_She laughed, and then he spent the rest of the night making her moan._

\--------------------------------------------------------------

**Present Day Alfea: the night of the Specialists’ party continued**

The call came two and a half hours later. 

Ben was startled out of his chair, and spilled the whiskey bottle in the process. “Is it done?” He looked over at Saul who was still white eyed, the black veins traveling up his neck like the wisteria and ivy Ben nurtures in the green house. 

“About an hour ago,” Marco replied.

Farah stood from her seat, her hand over her mouth, “no, no, no…” she turned away from the table and leaned against the stone column. If it was the one that attacked Saul, his condition would have improved. 

“We were out of range and could only call now. Is Silva alright?” 

Ben cleared his throat but Saul beat him to it, his voice filled with defeat, “Marco…” he ran his tongue over his lips, “it..it wasn’t the one.” 

“No,” he cursed, “Silva, we’ll stay out here and we’ll keep-” 

“I know you would but I’m calling you all back,” 

“What?!” Ben and Farah yelled. 

He held his hand out to them. “Thank you and thank your team, Marco. Because of you we know that they are more out there and we can act accordingly.” 

“But, boss,” 

“That’s an order.” He ended the call and stayed standing. 

“Let me see what I can do, Saul…” Farah’s voice broke, “please we can’t just…” she stopped and took a deep breath. You could hear her heart breaking, “we can’t just give up.” 

Saul hugged her and she buried her face in his neck. He could feel her tears as they soaked the collar of his shirt, her body shaking with sobs. Farah’s arms came around him, one bunching the material of his shirt while the other was out towards Ben. He moved forward and grabbed her hand while his other held tight to Saul’s shoulder. 

Saul felt Farah’s lips kiss his throat, “you know…” her eyelashes tickled the side of his neck, “don’t you, Saul?” 

Of course he did. The tug pulled and he felt it right behind his sternum. He pushed back and when she sighed, he knew she felt it. He pulled back and cleared his throat, “I need to go and talk with Sky,” he ran his hand across his face, “I have to tell him…” 

“We can go with you,” Ben said from behind him. 

Saul turned and gave him a tightlipped smile, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, Ben, but this is something that I need to do alone.” He patted the other man on the back. 

He gave Farah one last look. She was a wreck, her hair coming loose from the pins, tear stains carved down her cheeks, eyes red and swollen; he could feel the ache in his chest that he knew she felt in hers. “I’ll find you later.” 

She gave him a sad smile, and once he cleared the room, she fell to the floor. Ben caught her before her knees hit the stone, his arms steadying and strong around her. “I can’t, Ben…” she took in large gulps of air and started to panic. 

“Hey,” he said soothingly, “hey, Farah,” he ran his hand along her arm and caught her eye, just like he used to do when Terra had nightmares, “breathe with me, okay? You’re having a panic attack.” 

It took a few minutes but Ben was able to get her to calm. They stayed on the cold floor, neither strong enough to move. “I love him, Ben.” 

He gave her a gentle nod. “He knows that.” 

She huffed out a laugh. “Does he?” She brushed hair out of her face, “I’ve never actually said the words to him.” 

“And as far as I know, he’s never said them to you, either.” It wasn’t a question, there was no accusation, and he was right. 

Her shoulders slumped and he shook his head, “no, no. That’s not what I meant, Farah.” He rose from the floor, putting his arms around her shoulders and bringing her with him. Once he had her settled in a chair, he clarified. “Neither of you have said those words because it’s already here,” he tapped the center of his chest. 

He lifted a shoulder in a small shrug, “anyone with two eyes could see that you’re in love, and if that weren’t enough your bond is evidence enough. It’s vaguely mentioned in only a few archaic magical texts…” her breathing evened out and he knew she was listening, “it is something that only happens when it's true. When it's undeniable. When it's fated.” 

He covered her hand that rested on the table and squeezed. When she squeezed back some of his worry faded. 

“He’s your friend, too,” she said, as she squeezed his hand again. Her voice hoarse. 

“That he is,” he cleared his throat and squeezed back, “that he is.”

They stayed sitting like that until Ben went to get them some tea. When he returned he found her standing against one of the stone columns. “I contacted the Queen. Told her we need a detachment from the Solarian army to help in the search…" she stopped to finish off her shot of Whiskey. 

“Well, you’ve done what you can.” 

Farah sighed and let her head rest against the column, the stone cool and soothing. “I got it wrong. I so wanted to believe it was a one-off, a ghost from our past quickly buried,” she looked down unable to meet Ben’s eyes.

“We all wanted to believe that,” he said as he made his way over to her.

Farah pushed off the wall, her voice loud, “a single burned one is now at least two, who knows how many more are out there?" She shook her head, "it's my job to worry about it Ben, to fix it.” 

“And you will.” 

The sound of footsteps approaching stopped their conversation, and Farah let her eyes glance at the clock on the wall, as Bloom was rushing towards them. “You should be in bed.” 

“And you should tell me the truth.” 

Farah glanced at Ben and he took her meaning; he quickly turned and left the two of them alone. 

Bloom held up her phone and on it, Farah could see an old black and white photo, and she felt the alcohol she consumed turn in her stomach. “What is this?” 

“This woman?” Bloom shook the phone, “the one standing right next to you left me in the First World.”

A million thoughts ran through Farah’s mind in that moment and the only piece that gave her away was the slight rise in her brow. Farah took a deep breath, “Rosalind.” 

“Who is she?” Bloom was relentless, much like the woman who’s picture she held. 

“She preceded me as headmistress,” she turned and walked back towards the table, “I was her student, then her protege.” 

“You were there sixteen years ago when she did it?” The accusation in Bloom’s tone hurt. The girl didn’t know exactly what occurred sixteen years ago, but their current mess kept going back to that damned mission. 

“I told you the circumstances surrounding your birth are as much a mystery to me as they are to you,” Farah’s voice tried to hint at the girl to leave it alone. There was no such luck. 

“Can’t you see how that’s getting harder and harder for me to believe?” Her eyes were wide and Farah could feel the fire simmering just beneath Bloom’s skin. 

“You’re drunk,” her voice was firm, “perhaps we can have this conversation when you’re not.” She needed to end this interrogation. 

“Every picture of her was shoved in the abandoned east wing. Tell me that’s not suspicious.” 

“Rosalind was headmistress during a difficult period is Alfea’s history. It’s not a time we’re keen to celebrate.” 

“I wanna talk to her.” 

“That’s impossible,” Farah tried to make her getaway and stepped around the young girl, but Bloom was faster and blocked her. 

“Really? Because a week ago I had a vision, a memory of the day she left me in the first world and she said ‘find me’. I want to talk to her.”

Ice cold dread flooded Farah’s veins. She needed to speak with Saul and Ben. “She’s dead, Bloom.” 

That finally stopped the girl, “what?”

“She's been dead for years.” Farah took Bloom’s shock as the moment she needed to finally end this conversation. “So, I don’t know what you saw or why you saw it, but that is where this ends. Good night.”

She headed to her office, utterly shocked that the night actually got worse. 

\-----------------------------

Farah paced her office for fifteen minutes, telling herself that she said and did the right things tonight. Glancing at the clock, she poured herself a half glass of Fire Whiskey, but before she could enjoy it, she was alerted of a disturbance on the grounds, this one was beyond the Stone Circle. 

Saul hadn’t returned yet, so she grabbed her coat and went to check whatever it was that caused the alarm to sound. 

The closer Farah got to the Stone Circle, the more she could smell the Burned One, and multiple forms of magic in the air. Knowing she wouldn’t make it in time, she gathered the magic she’d need to transport herself. 

Farah watched as the students pooled their gifts and managed to incapacitate it. They didn’t have enough experience or training to realize that it wasn’t dead, so when it leapt from the ground she was ready, and tore the cinder out. 

It was only after it was dead, that she felt a release of pain, as though a heaviness that had been sitting inside her for the last week dissipated. 

She knew, in that moment, that they just killed the Burned One that attacked Saul. 

“Get back to the school. Now.” There was no room for negotiation in her voice and as Sky passed her she stopped him, “you should head to the greenhouse.” 

He furrowed his brows and then just as quickly, his eyes widened as he understood. The smile that broke out across his face was bright, and he ran past the girls, Bloom calling after him. 

“He has someplace he needs to be.” 

Bloom looked to Musa to see if she could read the Headmistress but Musa couldn’t. “She’s a vault,” she whispered. 

Farah was in front of them, “and she will be, until we find out if your recklessness was stupid or insane.” 

The girls followed her back to the school in silence, where once inside, Farah instructed them to wait for her in the canteen. 

She needed to see her Specialist. 

\----------------------------------------

The school after dark never frightened her, even when she was a mere first year. She found comfort in the quiet and shadows, but with everything going on and such darkness lurking around them, Farah couldn't wait to get to the greenhouse. 

She passed Sky as he was leaving and he gave her a small smile, which she returned. 

The room was lit but dim, and even with this lighting she could see the black that painted Saul's skin was already receding. His head was down and Ben was finishing up with the final bandage when he stepped away to clean his work table and throw out the old ones. 

When Saul finally lifted his head, it was his eyes that made her cry out. They were no longer white but grey. 

Saul pounced on her, his hands in her hair as hers came up behind his head; they kissed like two people who thought they'd never have the chance again. It was fevered and urgent, but there was a reverence there; the blindfold had been fully removed these last hours; how much they meant to one another was undeniable. 

Farah only pulled away to get some air and Saul used the opportunity to bury his nose into her hair and inhaled, as her thumbs caressed his cheekbones. She peppered him with kisses along his jawline, over his nose, and his forehead. 

Saul held his palm out for her and she took it, her other arm pulling him into a hug. The bond was there, strong. 

Ben cleared his throat behind the pair, his eyes on the floor. 

They stayed wrapped up in one another. 

"It's done?" 

Ben nodded to Farah, "it seems the one you all took down was the right one. The infection is receding, and he should be at full strength within the next thirty hours or so." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, "I would suggest no... strenuous activity for the next twenty four…" 

Saul huffed out a laugh and Farah felt the blush as it crept along her cheeks. When she caught Ben's bemused smile, she rolled her eyes. 

He jutted his head in the direction of the back room. "Everything is all set for you to wash up." 

Saul placed a lingering kiss to Farah’s temple, "I'll be right back." She nodded. 

And as he passed Ben, Saul slapped him on the shoulder and pointed at him, "and he's _not_ a doctor." The wink he sent her way sent a cascade of fire to her belly, and from the color in his cheeks, she knew he felt it, too. 

Ben watched his friend walk away, and was caught off guard as he felt Farah’s slender frame envelop him in a hug. "Thank you, Ben." 

He felt wetness on his cheek and wasn't sure at that moment if it was from her or him. He returned the hug and kissed the top of her head, "always, Farah."

She placed her hand on his cheek and they smiled at one another. 

"How'd it go with Bloom?" 

Her shoulders slumped and she gracelessly collapsed onto the couch, "a mess, but I'd rather tell you both." She rolled her shoulders back, the cracks causing her to wince. 

They sat in comfortable silence, Farah with her head back and eyes closed, while Ben fiddled with his glasses. 

He startled her when he said, “I’ve been thinking about Rose.” 

Farah opened her eyes, and looked at her friend. He was seated in an armchair, eyes heavy with pain. She moved to sit on the edge of the couch, and took his hand in hers. “Ben…” she didn’t know what to say. 

He gave her a sad smile and cleared his throat, “watching you two over the course of this week, it made me sad...and a bit angry…”

Eight years ago, Rose Harvey was killed by friendly fire during a training mission, it had been a fluke accident, one that immediately took her life. Ben knew that it was another loss that spurred Farah on these past weeks. She lost too many friends over the last decade, she wasn’t going to lose another one. 

“I was always so grateful that she was pregnant with Terra when we left for Aster Dell,” he swiped at his eyes, and sniffled, “I’m glad she didn’t have to carry the guilt that we all do. She was--” 

“The best of us,” Farah whispered. And it was true. Rose was an incredible Specialist, equal if not better than Saul when they were in school, but she was soft and kind, helping anyone who needed it. Farah saw quite a bit of her friend in Sam and Terra. 

She remembered before they left for Aster Dell, Alice came to see her. 

_“Please watch out for him,” Rose placed a hand over her round belly and the other over Farah’s. “He wants so badly to be what everyone needs him to be and it can be too much. He doesn’t know the word ‘no’.”_

_Farah squeezed her hand, “Dear, Ben…” she chuckled, “I’ll keep my eyes on him. And you,” she kissed her friend’s cheek, “you rest. Both of you.” She grabbed her bag and went to join the team in the yard. “We’ll see you in a few days!”_

She squeezed his hand, letting him know that she was there. 

He squeezed back, “I was angry because even though I know she knew it, I would do anything to tell Rose how much I love her, just once more…” his voice became small, “to tell her how amazing our children are, how brave and brilliant our best friends are...to tell her that I think about her everyday.” 

Ben wiped his nose on his sleeve and continued, “and you two,” he shook his head, “you two absolute idiots have that chance and if you don’t take it out of some ridiculous fear, I swear...” 

He ducked his head to catch her gaze, “I love you both, Farah. You’re my family. I want you to be happy. I want you to be whole...I don’t want you to ever regret not telling him how you feel.” He leaned forward and kissed her on her cheek. “You both deserve that chance.” 

She closed her eyes at his words. _Dear, Ben…_

He stood and held his hands out to her, pulling her up. They embraced. "We love you, too...you know that don’t you, Ben?” 

A wet laugh escaped him, and he ran his hand along her back, “I do, Farah. I do.” 

\-------------------------------------

The morning was a few hours away, when they met in her office. Farah leaned against her desk, Saul to her right, Ben to her left, and told them. 

“Bloom came to me tonight,” Farah’s gaze was straight ahead, recalling the anger in Bloom’s voice and the fear that flooded her own body, “she had a memory of the fairy that left her in the human world,” she took a breath, “it was Rosalind.”

“Oh, shit. 

She turned to look at Ben, “my thoughts exactly.” 

“What did you tell her?” 

She looked over at Saul, her heart leaping at the color that was coming back to his cheeks and eyes, “that she was dead.”

“Why,” Ben whispered. 

“Bloom has the potential to be one of the most powerful fairies the other world has ever known. If Rosalind is calling to her, there’s a reason,” she stopped to let her next words sink in, “we can never let the two of them meet.” 

They talked a bit more, Farah sharing her concerns about Callum, and the two men agreed to come back here, after some sleep, and see what they could uncover. 

Back at her suite, Farah, having realized it had been hours since she last ate, made some avocado toast and downed a large mug of chamomile tea. She just changed into her night clothes, when there was a soft knock at her door. Her exhaustion was overwhelming, but it was that familiar tug that made her answer it.

She didn’t even give him a chance to speak before she said, “you should be in bed. You need your rest.” 

His hair was sticking up in a few places and she saw that he was dressed in black cotton pants, black sneakers, and a black Specialists sweatshirt. He had gotten ready for bed, but something stopped him. 

While she looked him over, he was taking in her appearance, as well: hair down, cascading across her back, face free of makeup, black leggings, feet bare, and a familiar looking Specialists tee that had the initials “SS” embroidered over the front pocket. He hadn’t seen that shirt since third year, and felt a bit of pride at discovering she had taken it. “Nice shirt.” 

Farah blushed and to cover her embarrassment pointed at his look, “if you were going for stealth you definitely picked the right color.” 

He rolled his eyes at her as she opened the door further, inviting him in. Saul loved her suite. As Headmistress, it was the largest on campus, with a wall of windows looking out over the meadow. She decorated it in soft tones -maeve, dusty rose, greys, and even hints of yellow- with photographs scattered throughout, walls and walls of books, an area devoted to medieval weaponry, tables covered in candles, flowers, and maps of the realm. He loved that she was the warrior and the woman, never hiding one part of herself for another. 

“I had to see you.” He stuffed his hands in the front pocket of his sweatshirt. 

She took a step forward and held her hand out to reach for him but decided against it.

He couldn’t have that, so he closed the space between them, close enough that with each breath she took, the material of his shirt moved with her. She could smell the soap on his skin, and the peppermint of his toothpaste when he spoke. Her eyes drank him in, checking for any sign of fever or the infection. 

“I’m fine, Fa.”

She closed her eyes and let her forehead rest over his heart. She was shorter than normal in her bare feet, and he let his chin rest on top of her head. 

“You need to rest,” she mumbled against his shirt. 

He laughed, “if you think I’m here for a shag, I’m not, but now that you mention it..” she pushed him and he took a step back but righted himself, his fingers playing with her curls, “I _needed_ to see you.” 

She leaned on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, “go,” her chin moving in the direction of her bedroom, “I’m going to finish up here and I’ll be right in.” Farah watched him walk away, his back straighter, and gait stronger, and felt through their bond that he _was_ getting better. In another few hours it’d be like the attack never happened. 

In all honesty, Farah wasn’t surprised that he had shown up on her door tonight. It was something they’d done since second year. If one of them had a nightmare, needed a sounding board, or just couldn't sleep, they’d turn up on one another’s doorstep. Luckily for her when they were younger, Saul shared a suite with Ben and he was an excellent secret keeper. 

With two glasses of water in hand she went to her room and found him, shirtless, under her covers. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn’t sleeping. Farah left his glass on the nightstand and got into bed beside him, turning the lights off. 

Saul let his arm rest against the pillows, open to her and she scooted over to him, his left arm pulling her tight to his body, as her head came to rest on his chest. Farah could hear the steady beat of his heart and felt the prickle of tears in her eyes. 

Saul was the first to break the silence. “I don’t know how to say it…” his voice trailed off and she could feel him searching for the words. “After it attacked me, as I sat against that tree all I could think about was you.” His fingers combed through her hair, “the pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt, but I would swear, it wasn’t from the wounds but,” she could hear him swallow and hear the tremble in his voice, “from the thought of leaving you.” 

Her eyes slipped shut and she knew he could feel her tears. 

He continued on, “there were so many things I wanted to say to you over these last few days, so many things I needed to say in case I never got the chance, but I didn’t.” He took a deep breath and she rose with it, “I was a coward.” 

Farah turned onto her stomach, and rested her chin on her forearm, “never, Saul.” She wiped away the tears that he shed, and leaned her head onto her arm, bringing his hand to her lips where she kissed his knuckles. “I had things I wanted to say to you, too, I just told myself we would have time…”

His chuckle was soft and reverberated through her chest. “I don’t think it’ll ever be enough time for me. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say what I want to say.” Her question was written in the lines between her eyes, and it was then that he sat up, causing her to follow him. He made sure to look her square in the eyes as he said, “I love you, Farah.” He watched as her mouth fell open and her eyes widened, “I am in love with you, but...those words don’t do it justice.” 

He ran a hand across his face. Gods, he was making a mess of this. They’ve had decades together, of laughter and jokes, of fighting side by side across a blood soaked field, meals and holidays shared, he knew how she took her tea and what her favorite color was, she knew his favorite author and chocolate, he knew what she tasted like and the sounds he could get her to make. Saul needed to make sure she understood.

He took a deep breath. “How do you tell someone that they make your darkest moments easier to carry, that they fit with your broken pieces so well, you forgot the pain that caused those breaks in the first place? How do you tell someone that they’ve had your heart from the moment you saw them at the gates of Alfea? That looking at them and touching them is like coming home?” He pursed his lips together, these last words nothing more than whispers, “how do you tell someone that they are _everything_ ,” tears fell down his cheeks freely and Farah couldn’t stop hers if she tried, “they are in everything you are, in everything you’ve done, and everything you will ever do?” The love, respect, and heat in his gaze warmed her from the inside, and his words simultaneously shattered her and then put her back together. 

She moved gently, to rest her forehead against his and when she let her lips touch his, she could taste the salt of his tears. “I think you just did.” 

He laughed but it turned into a sob as he pulled her into a tight embrace, pulling her to sit side-saddle over his lap. “I was so scared, Saul.” Her fingers trailed across his chest. “When we learned that they hadn’t killed it, I never felt such finality.” 

Saul could see the pain in her eyes and remembered feeling it through their bond. 

“I’m in love with you,” she said, “since the moment I saw you, I knew that it was you for my whole life.” His smile was wide and bright as new tears fell. 

They were a right mess, tears and runny noses, but it was a moment that had been decades in the making. Ben had been right. They both knew it, it was always there, but there was something defining and permanent about saying the words out loud. As though, freeing them from the cages of their bodies lightened the two. 

They shared a long kiss, hands roaming across heated skin, but they both knew they were too exhausted to do anything about the heat that simmered just below the surface. 

“Sleep,” she said to him as she resumed her place on his chest. He hummed, and his arm held her tight to him. Farah felt him drift off, and she was right behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, over these last two weeks, these characters have consumed me. In all seriousness, when I'm not working (I'm an English/Creative Writing teacher), I'm writing and imagining and it's been amazing. I know I tend to get like this (see: obsessive) when something particularly inspires me, when the characters are amazing and have such possibility, or when I see a story that needs to be told. And for Farah and Saul, that was obvious. But there was something else and I couldn't quite figure out WHY they have come to mean so much to me, or WHY I have to tell their story. Until the other day. In a few days, I will officially be closer to 40 than 30, and I think it's the possibility and beauty of this grown up, love story that has really connected with me. The length and depth of their friendship, their utter trust in one another, the protection and care; all of it. Just resonates with me. 
> 
> Sigh. Alright, thanks for letting me have that moment. 
> 
> If you want to be friends outside of Ao3:  
> Tumblr: Thesestoriesarewrittenonmyheart  
> Instagram: @Bookishbitsandbites (I post about books and snacks)
> 
> Your kudos and comments make my heart happy! Thank you to everyone who takes the time to leave your thoughts and feelings. <3 
> 
> Nicole


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all of episode four and episode five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note: for the sake of plot, I had to go back to an earlier chapter and make a change, nothing too great. I originally implied that Luna didn't know about Aster Dell and that she wasn't aware of Rosalind being held in the undercroft. Something which the show made clear, she knew. So for continuity, I went back and changed it because it was a silly mistake and it comes up here. Thank you and apologies! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. All of these characters belong to the original creators, and to Netflix. The only thing I own are the pieces of their story that come directly from my mind. That, and a lot of books.
> 
> *All mistakes are my own. No beta.

The next day found the three of them up before the sun, once again meeting in Farah’s office. Ben was seated at her desk, pulling together a potion that would hopefully help answer some questions she had regarding Callum's whereabouts. Farah started speaking once she felt Saul enter the room, “I searched Callum’s room and his desk, and found this in one of his drawers,” she held up a small glass jar for Saul to see. There was something small and gold inside.

She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, her chest growing warm as she thought about what they shared the night before, about the kiss he gave her before he left her suite that morning, and the smile that lit his face when she said, “I love you.” 

Saul came up to her and took the object from her hand, their fingers brushing. He stared at it then at her, “what is it?” 

“Nettle Amalgam, it’s…”

Ben beat her to it, “...a fascinating substance,” he held his hand out to Saul for the Nettle and opened the jar, adding some of it to the mixture he had been working on, “now mercury can stand in both solid or--”

“Ben,” Saul and Farah said in unison, knowing that if they didn’t stop him now, he’d tell them the history, and religious and medicinal properties of Nettle Amalgam. And though they loved him for it, they didn’t have the time. 

He put his elbows on the desk and held his hands out, taking a deep breath, “if someone discovered your trap on the undercroft entrance, they would automatically assume albeit incorrectly, that it would help them defeat it.”

Saul turned to Farah, who had to keep her arms crossed from reaching out to feel him alive, and sure next to her, “and you're certain Callum tried to access the door?” 

“I’m certain someone did,” she turned away and faced the hidden doorway, “and Callum hasn’t been seen in days,” her arms dropped to her sides, “makes him the prime suspect.” Farah held her hand up and the trap to the undercroft and bookcase once again settled into place. 

As she turned back to the two men, her eyes on Saul she added, “Nettle Amalgam is archaic fairy knowledge. It's uncommon. And Callum was no fairy.” 

“He had help.” 

Farah stepped back into place beside him, “if magic was used to breach the undercroft…” she didn’t want to think about the implications of what that could mean. There was something going on at the school, someone looking to gain access to the undercroft, someone who managed to gain knowledge on fairy practices that haven’t been used in millenia... 

She was missing something important. 

“Well,” Ben said standing from his spot at her desk, “this will pick up trace elements of the kind of magic used.” In his hand he held what looked to be a small diffuser, which was releasing white smoke into the room, ghosting along the area in front of the bookshelf. He rocked it back and forth and added, “you can think of it like a sort of magical finger…” his voice trailed off as the smoke began to pool in one section on the floor, “print process.” 

Farah and Saul moved from their previous spots and followed Ben. As the smoke began to gather and take form, the two of them, always in sync, squatted to study what Ben was showing them. 

“Is that…”

“Callum,” she whispered, the shock evident in her voice, “yes.” 

Ben pulled a small vial from his pocket and collected the smoke, “he was killed by magic.” 

Farah sighed, her shoulders falling, “well, at least now we know where he went.” 

“And that there’s a murderer in our school.” 

Ben and Farah turned to Saul, the implications of his words conjuring up new waves of fear and anxiety. The trio stood and Ben began collecting his things, “I can use the stones from the vessel to trace the magical user. We can use the assembly today to see who it reveals.” He threw his bag over his shoulder, and as he passed Farah, his hand rested on her wrist, “we’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.” He gave Saul a quick nod and was gone. 

Saul stepped closer to her, his hand on her back, the silk blouse moved like water under his fingers, “he’s right,” she closed her eyes and he continued, “we’re getting closer. We’ll figure this out.”

She slammed her fist against the desk and a few books flew from the bookshelf. When she turned to him, her eyes were blue. “I hate that we always have to _figure_ it out,” she threw her hand out at her side and a vase was thrown from a nearby table, cracking against the door. 

“Well,” Saul cocked his head, “that’s one way to deal with it.” 

“Don’t, Saul,” she pointed a finger at him, “and today of all days.” She shook her head, took a deep breath, and used her magic to replace the books and pull the shards of glass together to deposit them in the bin. She closed her eyes when she felt his hand caress the back of her neck. “I’m sorry.” 

"For what?” he was closer, and his lips kissed her temple, then her cheekbone…

“For…” he made it to her chin, and she lifted, “...for snapping at you. You were only trying to help.” 

He hummed and she felt it along her throat, where he let his tongue dip into the hollow at its base. “Am I helping now?” 

“Gods, yes,” she answered breathlessly. He was so good at getting her mind to clear, focusing solely on him. It didn’t hurt that he was devastatingly handsome, brilliant, and kind. Or that he told her he loved her. Her hands went to his pants and began to undo the buttons. 

“Fa, don’t start something you cannot finish…” 

“I always finish what I start,” she raised an eyebrow and her mouth quirked up at the corner, “ _you_ started this.”

He reached for her, pinning his mouth to hers, and just as she had a hand inside his pants, there was a loud knock at the door. They jumped away from one another like teenagers caught by their parents. 

“Miss Dowling?” It was Aisha. 

Farah cleared her throat and placed a hand on her chest, and watched as Saul sat on her desk, head bent forward, knuckles white as he gripped the edge. 

“Yes, Aisha?” 

“You wanted me to let you know when it was nearing eight, so you could go and get ready.” 

“Yes. Thank you.” 

Farah ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the tea Saul had this morning. And when she looked at him, she saw that his shoulders were shaking. The bastard was laughing! She slapped his arm, “it's not,” she shook her head, “it's not funny.” She bit her lip to keep from joining him, but soon found it impossible. 

They were drunk with laughter. Farah sat next to him, no space between them.

Saul ran his knuckles along her cheek and then held her hand. “One day, hopefully soon, we will take a vacation.” 

When she looked up at him, his eyes were already on her, though his voice felt far away. “We will tell no one where we are going.” He licked his lips and her eyes followed the movement, “no phones, no Burned Ones, no fighting for our lives. Just us.” 

“Just us,” she whispered. It came out as a question, as though the idea of the universe letting it _be_ just the two of them, seemed impossible. 

He squeezed her hand. “Just. Us.” Saul caught a tear that escaped. “A small cottage near the ocean, where we can read and eat and not leave bed for days,” he wagged his eyebrows at her and she chuckled.

“It sounds perfect,” she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. 

There was a hesitant tap at the door and it was Farah who brought their foreheads together. “I have to go be Headmistress, now.” 

Saul smiled and kissed her nose. 

She rose from her perch and gave him one last look before she left the office. 

He sat there thinking about what he’d said to her. It was true and they deserved it. A life of duty and service, of giving up and losing things that meant the world, missed opportunities that they both deserved to have and experience. He’d make sure they’d have it; fight to the death to make it so. Saul pulled himself together and left her office, locking it shut behind him. 

They had a Queen to welcome, and a murderer to catch. 

Just a normal day at Alfea. 

\----------------------------------------

Luna really needed to work on her presentation. Though Queen, she lacked the tact to speak to a room full of students. Farah could feel it while she was circling the room, the tension and fear, the anxiety at what was to come. She wished she could speak, give the students some reassurance, but Luna was adamant that she and only she would address “the Burned Ones issue”. Farah was counting down the minutes until this woman would leave her school. She felt a deep tug in her chest and smiled to herself. Saul obviously felt her displeasure and annoyance at the woman, and sure enough, when she found him on the other side of the room, he was already staring at her. He smiled then let his eyes drift to Luna, and then rolled them. Farah felt the tension ease in her back. 

The assembly was a bust. 

Farah was pissed that the tracer didn’t reveal who their murderer was, and she was even more livid after her interaction with Luna. That woman did such damage to her daughter, and couldn't even begin to fathom how long it would take to undo years of mental and emotional abuse. Stella _was_ making great progress, and she tried so hard to please her mother, it broke Farah’s heart. 

Luna’s threats against Farah didn’t help the situation, and she kept those to herself for now. No need to worry Saul or Ben over words that were most likely said in the heat of the moment. 

And in true Alfea fashion, things only got worse. 

Finding out that Beatrix was absent from the assembly and manipulated Bloom into leaving campus with her was starting to put some things into perspective. Beatrix was most likely the person who released the Burned One from the barn, and definitely the one who killed Callum.

But, _why?_

“Beatrix shouldn't know the things she does, Saul.” Farah kept rubbing the pads of her fingers against her thumb. 

“She’s a puppet.”

Farah glanced at Ben in the backseat, “that’s my thinking, yes.” 

Saul’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, “I’m more interested in the person holding the strings.” 

They were able to track the vehicle the girls stole, and managed to get a hold of them before they returned to the school. The Runic Limiters, though barbaric, were necessary in this instance. They couldn’t risk Beatrix using her magic and getting away from them. 

They needed answers. 

\-------------------------------------

Later that night, the trio met in the greenhouse to debrief and pool everything they knew. It wasn’t much. Someone was using Beatrix as a spy within the school, someone who didn’t trust Farah, who had reasons to believe that Rosalind wasn’t dead, and whose interest in Bloom was unnerving. 

“Bloom was lying?” 

Farah nodded as she swirled the red wine in her glass. 

Ben continued, “did you--” 

“No, but I’ve spent enough time around teenagers to know when they're lying.” She finished off the glass and sat back in her seat, “Bloom thinks that Beatrix has all the answers.” Farah released a sigh and rolled back her shoulders, “I knew I should have told her earlier. I was just trying to protect her…” Saul’s hand came to rest on her knee and he squeezed, “I just wanted to give her time to adjust...to figure out who she is.” She ran her hand over her face, “which is difficult when you’re not given all the pieces.” She rested her head on Saul’s shoulder. “Am I like her?” 

Both men knew who she meant and immediately responded, “No!”

Ben leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “You could never be like her, Farah.” His eyes were soft, though there was sadness at their corners. It broke his heart that his friend thought she was anything like that woman. “Look at all you’ve done at Alfea,” he shrugged and shook his head, “it's magnificent. A place of wonder and safety, where these students can learn who they are and what path they want to take.” He cleared his throat, “we never had that, not with her.” Ben paused to make sure she was listening, “you’re compassionate, and put everyone’s well being before your own…"

“I’ve kept secrets, too.” Her voice was a mere whisper and she seemed far away. 

“Hey,” Saul placed his finger under her chin and made her look at him, “necessary secrets, Farah. To ensure that there is no panic. To make sure that the priority is always the safety and well being of these students.” He dipped his head to catch her eye, “never to scheme, or hurt, never for your own gain.” 

He leaned forward and placed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering there until she pulled away and placed a kiss to his lips. 

They were all quiet for a bit, each in their own thoughts. The aftermath of Aster Dell was difficult, for all of them. They had to work hard to reprogram the lessons and belief systems that Rosalind spent years drilling into their heads; they were their own people, yes. But there was always a voice - _her_ voice- in the back of their minds calling them weak, not good enough, a disappointment. Their sole focus upon taking over Alfea was to be different. To use compassion and openness instead of cruelty, force, and lying. These last few weeks had each of them wondering, in their own way, if they’ve been successful. 

Farah broke the silence. "I think I may have to use my magic on Beatrix.” The two men were silent, as she added, "I don't want to, but I think she's been prepared for this."

To her surprise, it was Saul who had the most issue with that. “She’s a child, Fa--” 

“A murderer, Saul.” 

The Specialist turned his head towards Ben and clenched his jaw, “you can’t burn through her mind out of,--”

“Of what, Saul? Paranoia? Do you think I’m being ridiculous?” 

Her voice rose as Saul kept his calm, “no, I just think there may be better ways to do this.” 

“I know what I’m doing,” she placed her glass on the table and stood, “and a little trust in my skill set would be helpful.” She turned, her coat fanning out behind her, “goodnight, Ben.” 

Saul sat there his mouth open like a fish gasping for air. 

“She’s got a lot on her plate, mate.” 

Saul groaned and leaned back into the couch, his legs splayed. “I know that, but we can’t…” his hands waved in front of him, “attack our students.” 

“Attack is a strong word, and it’s not that. It's a reconnaissance mission, and if anyone can do it without hurting that girl, it’s Farah.” 

Saul rubbed his fingers across his chin and bit his lip. He knew that, he just wasn’t overly fond of the idea. 

“So...does this mean you’ll sleep in your own suite tonight?” 

“Hmmm?” Saul failed at feigning innocence. 

Ben laughed, his glasses coming askew, “I lived with you for four years and have fought and worked beside you for over a decade, I know what it looks like when one of you is late for a meeting because you, _once again_ , forgot to bring clothes with you to the sleepover.” 

Saul threw a pillow at Ben and stood. “No, I won’t leave her just because we had a disagreement.” He scratched the back of his head, “it certainly wouldn’t be the first time we didn’t agree.” He raised his eyebrows and gave Ben a small smile.

“Look at you all mature…”

Saul walked to the door, his finger wagging in Ben’s direction, “You’re a right ass!” 

Ben’s laughter could be heard throughout the yard. 

\-----------------------------------------

Saul went to Farah’s that night, not entirely sure if she would let him in, but he wasn’t above sitting outside her door. It didn’t come to that. 

“You know I would never question your morals,” he said, “I just think that a young girl like that has been manipulated enough, I didn’t want us to add to her hurt.” 

She closed her eyes and left him standing there. He put his coat away and followed her to her bedroom. Her bed dipped when he sat next to her, and he placed his hand on her thigh. 

She put her hand on top of his. “I do know that, Saul,” she looked up at him, “but this entire time we’ve been steps behind whomever is at the head of this, and I know, I _know_ that Beatrix has some piece of information that could open this all up.” She rolled her lip between her teeth, “I won’t hurt her,--” 

“Farah, I know that,” Saul pressed a kiss to her temple, “I’ll be right there with you.” 

“I know.” She cupped his cheek, “you always are.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------

They were able to get a few hours of sleep before having to head out to see Beatrix. Farah didn’t want to go to the girl the moment they had her locked up, she thought it’d best to see if someone came for the girl, or if she had a Plan B. 

Saul watched as Farah got dressed, the movements slower than normal. There was a weariness to her that went beyond physical exhaustion, it was in her bones. Everything that’s unfolded since the start of term was weighing on her, and if he wasn’t careful, he could lose her to it, too. 

The pair didn’t speak as they made their way across the quiet grounds, but just before they made it to the yard, Saul pulled her behind a tree and kissed her senseless. 

“What was that for,” she whispered, hands on his chest.

He rubbed his nose with hers, “just wanted to kiss ya.” 

She hummed, “you can do that whenever you like.” Farah placed a quick kiss to his lips and squeezed his hand. They fell into step, Saul just a little bit behind her, as they entered the holding cell. Farah stayed a short distance away from the bars, her eyes settling on the limiters, the dried blood a cruel sight on the girl’s pale skin. Farah’s hands slipped into her coat pockets, “I know simply asking won’t reveal anything, but I’d like to give you the chance.” Beatrix stared at her, unmoving. 

“You’re a bright, talented girl who could have and do anything she wanted. I’ve seen what you can do, it’s impressive,” she risked a glance and saw those calculating eyes were still on her. No sign of emotion. “Help us, Beatrix,” it was only at the mention of “us” that Beatrix let her gaze shift to Saul. “Help us keep this school and these students safe.” 

The predatory gleam in Bearix’s eyes was obvious as she took a deep breath and asked, “do you believe that people have defining moments, Miss Dowling?” Beatrix looked at Farah and raised an eyebrow. “Moments that take you off the path of the person you could have been, to the one you were _forced_ to become?” 

“I think we all have choice; free will.” 

Beatrix sneered at her, the first sign of genuine emotion, “and what if we use that choice to end thousands of innocent lives?” 

The hair on the back of Farah’s neck rose and she felt Saul shift subtly beside her. “Tell me why you’re at this school.” Beatrix laughed, and Farah asked again, only this time, she called her magic. Her eyes bore into Beatrix’s mind as she began to writhe on the cot. “Tell me why you’re at this school.” 

Saul’s eyes went back and forth between Farah and Beatrix. “Farah, she’s not talking.” 

Her back was rigid, hands in her pockets, voice eerily calm as she said, “I can make her.” 

He took a deep breath and said, “you’re hurting her.” 

“What I’m doing is pushing through her mental defenses. It’s painless. This is an act.” 

Beatrix stopped crying and sat up. Saul was certain that in that moment, if the girl had her powers she would have tried to end Farah’s life. The obvious hate and disdain for the Headmistress was staggering; staggering, and nonsensical. There was no way this girl could build up such hate for someone she only met months ago. 

When it was obvious after Beatrix’s tirade that she wasn’t going to give them anything. Farah turned to leave, and waited outside the doors for Saul. Together they headed back to her office. 

“She won’t talk, Farah. Whomever trained her knew what they were doing.” 

Once they were far enough away from where they held Beatrix, Farah threw her hands from her pockets and yelled. Saul watched as lightning danced across the sky and he swore when heard a few tree branches break. A release of energy like that was a sign that Farah _had_ been holding back, and that she was more rattled by Beatrix’s performance than she let on. 

“There are pieces here and I can’t make them fit…” she rolled her neck, and felt him come up behind her. 

“Breathe, Fa. Just breathe.” He tugged on their bond then, hoping that his calm would help settle her. After some time, it worked. 

“Thank you,” they shared a long, slow kiss. It was the promise he made to himself when this all started: keep her grounded. Keep her here, with him. He caught her hand in his and squeezed, but as he went to release her she held onto him, only letting go once they passed through the main doors. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

Considering the insane amount of holes they still had in this puzzle, they decided that the best course of action for their students was to prepare them in every way they could. This was how, three days later, the war games started. Saul, Farah, and Ben spent their nights organizing the students into teams and simulations, all meant to prepare them for what was undoubtedly on its way.

Saul paired Bloom and Sky together but it was Ben who commented on it, “there’s something there, between the two of them. It’s special.” 

Farah turned so she could see Ben. His exhaustion was written clear across his face, shoulders slumped, in a wrinkled sweater. He'd been working just as hard as she and Saul were, and he had two children to care for in the process. It was not the first time that she was grateful for whatever force brought him into her life; she smiled. “Good. Let them have that.” 

Those in the Specialists program were used to these routines and the level of physical and mental exertion the simulations would require. Some of the fairies had a more difficult time with the new changes. As Farah and Saul, accompanied by Musa and Aisha, tracked the students' progress, she couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t enough. She was frustrated and on edge, and even Saul’s presence at her side wasn’t enough to get her to shake the worry or at the very least, push it away to examine later. 

When they finished their tour of the students, they reconvened in her office to watch some of the video feeds. Farah could almost hear Rosalind’s voice telling them to do it better, be quicker. Saul, a steady line of heat on her left, felt where her mind was going and pulled. 

He felt her relax. 

"Do you remember how well-trained we were? Rosalind--” 

“--put us through hell. I’ve still got the scars,” Ben joked. 

“And not one of the students took down a simulation,” she rifled through Ben’s data, “most of them gave up.” 

Saul pinched the bridge of his nose, “they’re not ready yet, which is why we’re training them.” 

Farah had a witty retort on her tongue but was stopped by Marco bursting through the door. Saul was already in front of him, as Farah rose to her feet. 

“Marco? What happened?” 

The younger man sat on the chair nearest him, pain etched in every muscle of his body. "Noura and I were tracking a Burned One not far from the school,” Ben rose at that information, “once we killed it, we let our guard down,” he pulled his shirt up and showed them the wound, all too familiar to the one Saul had weeks ago. “It wasn’t alone.” 

Saul, Farah and Ben shared a look. 

“I’ll get some Zanbaq,” Ben rose and left. 

“How close was it to the school?” The worry was clear in Farah’s voice. How much time did they have? Could they evacuate? Call for assistance from Solaria? 

“Noura and the battalion will take care of it. Don’t worry.” He took a shaky breath, “but...we were taught that the Burned Ones are solitary hunters. Two of them traveling together…”

Saul chanced a look back at Farah, as she said, “it’s rare,” her eyes met his, “but it happens.” 

He leaned towards her, “we should alert the Solarians.” 

“We tried,” Marco gasped for breath, “they’ve been radio silent for days, and they pulled their troops from the battalion.” 

That was news to both of them. “What?” He again turned to Farah, “when was the last time you spoke with Luna?” 

Farah gave him a shake of her head.

“Is something happening I should know about?” 

She exhaled shakily he eyes still on Saul, “the Queen removed her daughter from the school over a week ago." Her eyes went to Marco, "since then, she’s been...distant.” 

“We don’t have many more troops. If the Solarians abandon us, we’re in serious trouble.” 

Saul understood Marco’s anger, and nodded. “Let’s get you to Harvey and,” his eyes were serious as he said, “we’ll let Farah see what she can find out.”

Farah paced the length of her office once she was alone. She knew two things for certain: the first was that she had to reach out to Luna, again, and the second was that the appearance of Burned Ones aligned with the appearance of one person: Bloom. 

She placed the request to speak with Luna an hour ago. The woman certainly took her damn time. When Luna finally reached out, Farah could immediately tell the conversation was not going to go the way she hoped. 

Farah was leaning over her desk, listening as Luna still didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation they found themselves in. 

“I'm struggling to see how a single Burned One outside the barrier is a serious problem.” 

“There are two of them traveling together,” she slowly raised her head, “that hasn’t happened since…” she swallowed, “in a long time.” Farah stood, straighter, “the problem is getting worse, why did you withdraw your troops?”

“The realm has more concerns than just your school, Farah.” The Queen watched the headmistress, a slight smile crossing her face at Farah’s frustration and exhaustion. “And Alfea is not defenseless. You are training the students to fight.” She took a breath, “isn’t that what you were supposed to be teaching my daughter?”

There was something in Luna’s voice that buried into Farah’s brain, and set her on edge. “Is this some sort of punishment for not rehabilitating Stella in the way you wanted?” 

“This isn’t a punishment,” she chuckled, “but you might consider updating your methods, given the threats we clearly face.”

Farah slid her hands into her pockets, “my methods are effective, and they don’t cause students to lose control and blind their friends.” 

Luna sneered, her smile wicked and dangerous. “Feel free to let me know when the Burned One has been...eliminated.” 

Once her projection was gone from the room, Farah slammed her hands on the desk. 

Saul burst through the door soon after, “are you alright?” His eyes were wild as he came around her desk, his breathing ragged as he ran his hands along the side of her face and down her arms. 

Farah closed her eyes and brought her arms around him for a hug. He obliged. “It amazes me that I manage to forget that you feel it, too.” Saul chuckled and kissed the side of her head. Farah smiled, but it quickly faded. “Luna is not giving us troops, Saul.” 

“Fuck,” he hissed. 

“And I think she’s had a hand in what’s going on from the beginning.” 

He staggered back, “what?” He shook his head, “that’s...there’s no way…” 

“We’ve been tricked once before…” 

He covered his mouth with his hand, and closed his eyes. When he was ready, he leaned against the desk, “tell me.” 

And she did. About the veiled threats to Farah’s position within the school, what could be lost if they don’t keep up appearances, the strikes against her teaching methods, and even going so far as to leave a school full of children defenseless. He had to agree with her, it made sense, but what was the reason. It could have been anything with Luna, but most likely revolved around power. 

A text came in from Ben and Saul stood, “I’m going to check on Marco, are you alright?” 

She nodded, then crooked her finger at him. He leaned towards her, a smile on his face. She kissed him, her tongue gliding along his, her nails scratching along his scalp. A second text forced them to break apart and he cupped her chin in his hand, “I love you.” 

“I will never get tired of hearing you say that,” she kissed him once more, “I love you.” 

\-------------------------------------------------

The entire battalion was dead. 

Numerous Burned Ones. 

Working together. 

You’d think those would be the pieces that hurt the most but it was learning that Bloom and her family were citizens of Aster Dell, that this young girl was left alone in the world, struggling to figure out who she was and where she fit because of something Farah had a hand in. 

But it did reveal another piece of the puzzle to Farah. In order for Beatrix to know enough about Aster Dell to share with Bloom, someone who was there or knew the truth had to be working the girl. Rosalind seemed like the likeliest candidate, but it was impossible. 

Luna would be her next guess. The Queen helped cover it up, and knew about the binding of Rosalind. She knew where major pieces were kept and could control the board. 

It made Farah’s stomach turn. 

Saul’s message about the Burned Ones doused her with terror, and couldn’t have come at a worse time. When Bloom came storming into her office and showed her hand with how much she thought she knew about Aster Dell, Farah knew she had to tell Bloom the truth; about Aster Dell, about Rosalind, and about Farah herself. It was brutal reliving it, feeling every ounce of pain and power from that awful day, but Bloom needed the truth. Farah made the mistake of not telling her sooner, especially after news came out she was a changeling. She couldn't keep going down the path of secrets and lies. 

She ignored Saul's texts as they were coming in, knowing that in that moment, Bloom needed her. When he came to get her himself, she knew it was time to go. It hurt to leave Bloom behind, but Farah had to see, with her own eyes, the situation at the barrier, and she knew that any order or action would have to come from her direction. She needed to be at her best. 

It was the three of them in the car, Ben in the back triple checking supplies, Saul driving and Farah staring at setting sun. “I need you both to be careful.” 

She felt Saul’s hand on her thigh, and Ben’s on her shoulder. She covered them as she said, “we do this right and it can all end tonight.” 

Once the sun set, the night was cold, their breath nothing but puffs of smoke on the evening air. As Farah stood by the barrier, amplifying the snarls of the Burned Ones circling them, she did not expect to see Aisha, nor could she ever have imagined what the girl described. Farah should have known that Bloom would go searching for a way to get to Rosalind, she should have had the foresight. 

Rosalind would have. 

With the snarls growing louder, she thought back to what she’d said to Bloom. She meant it; that she’d help Bloom get the answers she needed, and now, she only hoped she’d make it to tomorrow to keep her word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you so much for reading and for sticking with me. Please let me know what you think of this chapter! We're getting closer to the end of what the show gave us, and as stated, I am fixing that ridiculous ending. <3 
> 
> I think my favorite episodes are 2 and 4, and if you have a chance, please rewatch the fourth episode. From the begining of the episode, where this chapter starts, the acting by Eve and Rob here is just brilliant. The way they angle their bodies towards one another, the way they look and check in with one another, are on the same wavelength mentally and physically (when they squat in sync I lost it the first time I watched)...I think it just adds to their interactions and to these characters. AND I COMPLETELY believe the two actors think there's something more with these charcters, too. Call me crazy. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you again! And I hope where ever you are, you're safe and well and if you've gotten hit with any of this dangerous winter weather (NY is getting it tomorrow which means cozy writing time), I hope you're safe and warm. 
> 
> Sending love,  
> Nicole


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was quite a bit more I wanted to add to this one and it was the chapter so far, that I think I struggled with the most. I hope I was still able to fill in some of those blanks the show left. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. All of these characters belong to the original creators, and to Netflix. The only thing I own are the pieces of their story that come directly from my mind. That, and a lot of books.
> 
> *All mistakes are my own. No beta.

The entire drive from the barrier back to the school had Farah bouncing back and forth between a dozen emotions -anger, worry, frustration, fear- she felt it all and knew she’d need her wits about her if the girl succeeded in freeing Rosalind. Farah could feel her emotions simmer with each step she took towards her office. “You have no idea the trouble you caused,” exhaustion and disappointment evident in her tone. 

Terra was the first to speak, “we were just trying to find the--”

“Not another word,” there was steel in Ben’s voice which left no room to wiggle their way out of this. He turned and the girls followed. 

Once the room was cleared, Farah took a deep breath, trying to steady herself for whatever she may find in the undercroft. She hoped this would never happen: the woman who made a mess of everything, who was miserable, cruel, unforgiving- free.

Farah made her way down the long passage to where Rosalind was held, and she remembered how in awe she had been of the woman. Farah was elated when Rosalind took her under her wing, but in the years since Aster Dell, Farah was able to understand that it wasn’t out of genuine interest or care that Rosalind chose her, but that the woman saw something that could be used: Farah’s power. She shook her head, trying to rid the thoughts from her mind, she’d have to be on guard, not just for the Burned Ones who were still a threat to everyone at Alfea, but for whatever she’d find around this corner. Farah could smell the magic before she even made it to where Rosalind was held; bonfires and sun baked asphalt, uniquely Bloom’s. Still, the sight of the empty room caused her to take a quivering breath, cold sweat forming on her back. 

Her next stop was through the secret passage that led to the Stone Circle. It seemed the most likely place for Rosalind to go after being released, she’d need magic. Once at the circle, she saw no sign of Rosalind or Bloom, allowing herself a moment to dig deep into the vibrations of the earth and see if it held any secrets. It came back silent. 

She sent a text to Saul, returning in time to discover that the Burned Ones made it past the barrier. The Specialists managed to gather the students into the courtyard, giving out orders to use fire fairies to weld the doors and windows shut, block the entryways; to put on armor and grab weapons. Farah felt an overwhelming wave of absolute fear rock through the room, and as she sought it out, she heard Terra call out for Ben, and watched, in terror as Sky carried Sam into the courtyard, covered in blood. 

_He was attacked by a Burned One._

Farah felt a painful tug in her heart and her eyes found Saul’s, the worry and fear as clear on his face as she knew it was on hers. They loved Sam and Terra as though they were members of their own family. She was there when both children were born, watched as they discovered their magic, and is so proud of the amazing people they’re becoming. She felt sick and wanted nothing more than to run to Ben’s side and help, but she was responsible for **_all_ **at Alfea. Farah licked her lips and took a steadying breath. She didn’t like to project into people’s minds, it was a violation of not just privacy but of the self, but she needed to let Ben know that he was not alone.

_Ben…_

She was hit with a wall of cold, dark fear. She pushed a little harder. 

_Ben, please._

She could feel him sense her magic, and the wall became a bit easier to push through. 

_We will get them all. Not one will leave this place tonight._

She felt Ben’s chest constrict at the possibility of them failing.

_We will not fail, Saul and I will not allow it. Sam is your and Alice’s son, he is strong. Remember that you are capable and your love for him will push you to do what needs to be done for him. We’re here and we love you._

As she pulled back, she caught Ben’s eyes and saw the sheen to them. He gave her the smallest of nods before he went back to tending to his son. 

Farah could feel that tug in her chest and knew that Saul was trying to calm and reassure her as well, but she couldn’t find him. She rolled her shoulders and took another breath, assessing how many students were present, and how many they were waiting on. She could feel their fear and confusion, and all she could do was focus on keeping calm. Each time she gave out an instruction she felt a small tug, reminding her that she too, was not alone. When she searched, she found Saul speaking to a few first years. His expression was soft, his eyes showed no fear, and he patted them on the shoulders as they went to gather what they would need. Saul felt her eyes on him and he took a deep breath and Farah could feel his words in the tilt of his head and the pull just behind her heart. She sent it back then spoke to the congregation, no time to mince words as every second counted. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Burned Ones have infiltrated the barrier and the school,” murmurs went out across the student body, “for some reason, the magical energy wells which power everything here have failed,” she had a feeling that Rosalind had a hand in that...leaving them nothing. 

“I managed to speak with Queen Luna before the energy depleted. She understands the gravity of what’s happening here, and the Solarian troops are on their way.” 

That was a lie. 

Farah contacted the Queen and there was no response, she wasn’t going to hold her breath for Luna’s help. Looking out at the scared, young faces of her students, she masked her worry and trudged on, “we’re barricading all entrances to the courtyard, we’re safe, for now...but we must prepare for the reality that the Burned Ones may infiltrate the space before the army arrives.” Her declaration caused the students to stir, a wave of worry and muttering cascading over them. Saul was watching, back straight and strong, waiting. “This is what we’ve been training for. Be cautious, but be brave. Let magic guide you.” 

She turned and made her way up to the highline, wanting to see the room from a different vantage point for any areas of weakness. Farah could sense Bloom behind her before she even spoke. 

“I know you’re mad.”

“An understatement.” 

“Rosalind isn’t the monster you think she is. She had a reason to lie,” Farah was looking out over the courtyard, checking the barricades. Bloom continued, “the settlers of Aster Dell weren’t innocent.” The girl’s hand on her arm stopped her. “They were Blood Witches and my birth parents weren’t even there.”

 _Blood witches._ Gods, she didn’t have time to even contemplate that new piece of information. 

Farah let out a sigh, and her lips curled into a sneer, “well, she certainly has a way of winning people over, doesn’t she?” 

“Is your ego so fragile that you can’t even consider for a minute that you might be wrong about her?” 

Bloom’s words hurt, so much so that when Farah stopped walking to face her, the evidence of that blow was written clearly across her features. 

Bloom had to look away. 

Farah leaned forward a fraction of an inch, “Rosalind gave you just enough information to string you along. She's manipulating you, it's what she does.” 

“And what have you been doing? _You_ hid information from me, not her.” 

Farah nodded, “then why isn’t she telling me this herself? Why isn’t she by our side helping us fight? Where is she?” She didn’t need her magic to read Bloom then, she could see the uncertainty in her eyes. 

“She’s..she’s still weak” Bloom stumbled, “she’s not charged up, but she said--” 

“Wait,” she took a breath, “you _were_ in the Stone Circle,” it was all falling into place. Farah closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest, “the Stone Circle is a conduit to the magic of the land. That magic powers everything at Alfea, like our electricity…” she waited a moment for Bloom to fully understand what Rosalind had done… “and the _barrier._ ” 

Farah pushed off the railing and walked away. Bloom followed. “Wait, so are you saying that Rosalind is the reason the barrier was weak enough for the Burned Ones to get through?” 

A loud snarl caused both women to stop. “This is no accident, Bloom. Rosalind always has a plan.” 

“They’re after me, you know.” 

“Yes," Farah turned to look at Bloom, "I didn't realize that at first, but I do now. Which means it's my job to protect you.” 

And she would. She'd protect all of them until there was no air left in her lungs. 

Bloom’s youth and inexperience showed in her words, “we’re gonna fight them right? Rosalind told me how to fight--” 

Of course she did, Rosalind was always about fighting. “Your actions are the reason the school’s in danger, Bloom, I’d say you’ve done enough. But if you’d like to be helpful, join the other fire fairies and weld these gates shut.” 

Farah turned on her heel to get down to the courtyard grounds. 

\-------------------------------------------

Saul and Sky were walking along the courtyard, checking for any vulnerabilities when Saul stopped. He had been thinking about telling Sky the truth since they first got the call that the Burned Ones were just beyond the barrier. Now that they made it _inside_ , there were things that had to be said. “I don’t know how this night will end, Sky, so I need to tell you the truth about Aster Dell.”

“Bloom told me everything.” 

Saul shook his head and pressed his lips together, “Aster Dell is where Andreas died.” 

“What?” His confusion was palpable, his brows furrowed, “how is that possible? You said my dad died in battle, fighting.” 

“He did.” Saul explained. And so he told Sky about how he went to tell Rosalind and the others that Aster Dell wasn’t evacuated, only for Andreas to stop him. He explained that it was then that everything fell into place: Andreas had been in on it, too. And then the man he considered a friend pulled his blade on Saul. They fought, but Saul caught him in the stomach, his blade finding its mark. 

Saul could feel his heart breaking at the sight of tears in Sky’s eyes, the color in his cheeks vanishing. “I...I had to run back to Farah and Ben. I thought I could stop them in time but...it was too late.” 

“You told me my dad was a hero…,” Sky whispered.

“Andreas saved countless lives before that day, Sky...killed more burned ones than any of us but he was flawed. We all are.”

“Flawed.” Sky nodded, his lip curling, “he killed hundreds of people,” he leaned forward and whispered, “and you killed him. And all I get from you is that you're both flawed? What the _fuck_ am I supposed to do with that?” 

Saul tried to find the words, but the sound of the Burned Ones pounding at the doors pulled both of them from their thoughts. “They’re here.” 

Farah was moving through the gathered students to her place at the front. If the Burned Ones were going to come for them, she would be the first one they met. “Remember to keep your emotions in check, runaway fear leads to runaway magic. Maintain readiness.” 

She could feel Saul come up behind her, the two of them always at one another’s side. Memories flickered through her mind in that moment, as the snarling grew louder. She thought of the countless times they fought together, always so in tune with the other, knowing where they would be and what they would need. Farah also allowed herself a moment thinking of the times they loved one another; whispers ghosting over sweat slicked skin, shared looks of heat and longing, laughter and smiles...all of it filled her, and she knew she’d fight to have another day with him; their time, their story not yet finished.

“It won’t hold much longer,” Saul said, sword in hand. 

There was a crash from above and a Burned One broke through the glass ceiling, but it didn’t attack. Farah and Saul watched its odd behavior as the monster sniffed the air, ran through the room, and back out again. 

“They’re leaving...” 

“They’re all moving together, like they’re following something.” 

Farah’s eyes grew wide, “where’s Bloom?” 

\------------------------------------

It was unlike anything Farah had ever seen. She watched, transfixed, as Bloom channeled magic they thought lost for centuries, and managed to take down six Burned Ones on her own. It was impressive. It was frightening. It brought everything into perspective. 

“Well done, Bloom.” 

The young girl took a few tentative steps towards Farah before she collapsed, the older woman catching her before she hit the floor. 

“What’s wrong,” Aisha asked?

“She’s okay, just weak. Maybe you girls want to help her back to her room?” 

As the three of them headed back to the school, Farah was able to take in the bodies on the ground and was stunned by what she saw. The Burned Ones, when eliminated, looked human. 

“No sign of Rosalind, but I have no doubt we will see her again,” Saul said as he came up behind her. Farah knew they hadn’t seen the last of that woman. Rosalind planned for this, from the moment Aster Dell fell, she had contingency plans for her contingency plans. Farah also knew that when Rosalind did show her face, it would be to Farah and Farah alone. There was a history, an animosity there that was bone deep. 

“What happened?” 

“Bloom transformed, Saul.” There was awe, pride, and a bit of fear in her voice, “she spent one night with Rosalind and unlocked ancient fairy magic, magic we thought was lost.”

There was self doubt in her voice, too. 

Farah met Saul’s eyes, her voice soft as she said, “she told Bloom the settlers of Aster Dell weren’t civilians, they were Blood Witches.” 

She could feel pain and anger as it lanced through him, could practically see him fold in on himself. 

“A detail she chose not to tell us at the time.” 

His hands clenched into fists at his side, and he nodded. “They were Blood Witches,” he sniffled and let out a huff of air, “so everything we did to try and stop…” she felt the pain flooding his system, as tears welled in his eyes, “everything I did…”

She cupped his cheek, “I know.” 

They stayed standing over the bodies and the remnants of their pasts for another hour. 

\---------------------------------------------

Saul sent the group of Specialists back to the courtyard to help the students clean up. Luckily for them there was no real damage besides the broken glass from the ceiling, and some debris from where the Burned One fell through. No one was seriously injured save for a few cuts from flying shards and one sprained ankle from a first year who startled when the Burned One came through and slipped on the floor. 

It took them about an hour to remove the barricade and unweld the doors, and before making sure everyone was cared for and on their way to their rooms, Farah cancelled classes and training for the next three days; effectively giving everyone a five day weekend. If she were honest, it was completely selfish. She needed the rest, and she knew Saul and Ben did, too. 

“That was incredibly generous,” Saul said as they made their way to her suite, “they’re going to think you’re a big softie now.” When she didn’t respond, he gently grabbed her upper arm, stopping her before she made it inside. He could feel her worry, “we’ll find her, Farah.” 

He brought her in for a hug which she returned, her hands fisting the material of his sweater. “I just hate that she’s out,” she mumbled against his chest. She let her hands roam to his back, feeling the hard muscle beneath, “you can’t let what happened with Andreas consume you, Saul.” She pulled her head back so she could see him, “we were put in a n impossible situation, and in that moment we all made decisions that seemed to be the best given the information we had. And we didn’t have much.” Farah kissed his chest, his heart pounding beneath the fabric, “please, just be here with me, tonight.” 

His arms tightened around her and he kissed the top of her head. 

When they finally pulled apart she placed a gentle kiss to his lips, “we both smell like sweat and fire,” she wrinkled her nose and he chuckled, “we need a shower.” 

They made their way into her suite, leaving their mud covered boots by the door, they helped one another remove armour, coats, weapons, shirts, pants- until they were both naked. Their hands gently grazed one another’s bodies, fingertips skimming over rain and sweat damp skin, goosebumps left in their wake. 

It was the first time since Saul recovered from the Burned One’s attack, and the first time in quite a while, that they were this intimate. But it wasn’t awkward. They were cartographer’s, aware of the plains and slopes of one another’s body, the spots that held pain, the ones that could elicit a laugh, and the ones that would bring forth a moan. They’ve known one another for decades, and with that comes a peace that is indescribable. 

Once the steam filled the bathroom, Farah took Saul’s hand in hers and they entered the shower. She stared longingly at her bathtub, she desperately wanted a soak, but exhaustion won out and a shower would get her to bed quicker.

They were slow with one another, lathering soap in their hands and washing the grime from the night - the last few weeks, really- off. Her long, blonde hair fell down her back and as he put a fair amount of avocado and kiwi scented shampoo in his hands, he ran some it through his hair, and then began to wash hers. She leaned into him, her eyes closed, and with each pressured push of his fingers, he watched as the tension left her body. It was doing wonders for him, too. Saul couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed. A lot of it had to do with the fact that the Burned Ones were taken care of, but even with the threat of Rosalind still out there, he found that in this moment, with this amazing woman, he was at peace. 

“You know I love you, right?” He whispered in her ear. 

She tilted her head back so he could rinse her hair. Once he was finished, she brought her hand to cup his cheek and said, “I do. And I love you, Saul.” They kissed until the water turned cold. 

They wrapped one another in large white towels, and made their way to the bedroom. Farah brushed out her hair while, once dressed, Saul went to make them some tea. He thought about the last few weeks, how they almost lost their chance at this and felt so grateful that they were here, together. Before heading back, he grabbed a few biscuits, knowing that even though she hated eating in bed, they both needed something in their stomachs. 

He stopped in the doorway of the bedroom, and saw that Farah was already under the covers, hair damp, wearing one of his shirts. She was fast asleep. Saul let out a small laugh placing the mugs on his nightstand. Once in bed he turned out the lights and found that even in sleep, Farah would seek him out. She turned, breaths deep and even and wrapped her arm around him. 

He did the same. His last thoughts before sleep took him were of tomorrow. And the day after. He knew, like they all did, that Rosalind was out there, and that she would come for them. And with Farah, a pleasant weight on his chest snoring lightly, wrapped around him, he knew he would do whatever necessary to keep her.

\----------------------------------------------

She was warm, and for the first time in what felt like years, found that she truly slept. Nightmares often plagued her: Aster Dell, Alice, battles that were far too close for comfort, Saul’s attack, Rosalind, Burned Ones...the list went on. Slowly coming out of that blissful slumber, she realized she had not once startled or woke, there was no remnant of dream or nightmare in her mind. As Farah pulled the comforter over her shoulders, she felt Saul’s arm tighten around her waist, and she knew that her peaceful sleep was because of the man who cradled her to him. 

He kept her safe. As he always had, but even in sleep he managed to keep the monsters from her. Farah gently took his hand in hers and kissed the back of it, her lips lingering on the knuckles. She shifted again, her bare legs coming into contact with his sweatpant covered ones, and she tucked her feet between his legs to warm her toes. 

His exhale brushed strands of her hair along her cheek. “You are an evil woman,” his voice was rough and heavy with sleep, the deep timber enough to ignite a spark in the pit of Farah’s belly. Saul buried his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled. He placed a kiss there and pulled her even closer to him, her body relaxing into his. 

She closed her eyes again and let her fingers trail up and down his arm. 

He hummed and she felt it in her spine. Saul pulled his arm from around her waist and let it rest on the curve of her hip. When she dressed last night, she only wore his shirt, and a pair of cotton panties. Her legs were bare, and begged exploration, so he returned the gesture, and let his fingers glide up and down, skimming along her hip bone, the curve of her ass, and stopping above her knee; a languid pace and a teasing route. 

It would have been relaxing if Farah didn’t feel him hard behind her. Her mind drifted back to moments they’ve had over the last week, touches and fleeting seconds where they tasted one another but were pulled away before she could feel him inside her. The thought of it had her clenching her thighs together, and Saul’s deep, wicked laugh let her know he knew exactly what she was thinking of. 

His hands stopped. 

She ground herself against him and felt heat flood her face at his answering growl. He gripped her thigh, the pads of his fingers pressing into soft skin. “I’ve wanted you every day since third year, Farah,” he loosened his grip and started to walk his fingers along the inside of her thigh, she opened her legs for him, “and though we’ve had moments here and there, sometimes longer stretches, I’ve always _wanted_.” He let his teeth graze her earlobe as his first finger slid into her. 

Farah closed her eyes, her lungs emptying of air. Her legs opened wider. 

Saul used his feet to push the blanket off them, the air cool as it met heated skin, and when Farah opened her eyes, she saw that he was braced above her, drinking in the view of his finger inside her, and her hips rolling to meet each movement and curl. “I want this every day for the rest of my life…” he kept moving, watching the blush as it crept along her legs and across her stomach, to the skin hidden by his shirt bunched around her breasts. 

She licked her lips, “yes.” 

He smiled at her and leaned forward to kiss her. Her tongue danced with his as her hands rested on his shoulders, then trailed over his chest, a thumb tweaking a nipple earned her a nip at her lip. She chuckled and let her hands rest on his hips, his hand stilled. 

“Off, Saul.” 

It was a command, and one he eagerly obeyed. She pulled the shirt over her head and removed her panties as he rid himself of his briefs and pants.

He covered her, her legs coming around his waist, letting him settle where they both wanted him. They’ve been physically intimate since their third year at Alfea, on and off throughout the years, but now with everything that they’ve endured and overcome, the words that they shared only a few nights ago, there was an openness to their coming together in the morning light. 

This time was different. 

Saul’s hands were gentle as they cradled her face and he kissed her nose, her chin, her lips. Her’s craved the feel of his skin, traveling over shoulders and elbows, through sleep mussed hair, the shell of an ear, the curve of his ass, a thumb ghosted over his lips. 

“The rest of your life, huh?” 

He blushed. 

“Good, because I was already planning on it.” His smile outshone the sun, and she used the moment to flip them, her legs now straddling him, his hands finding their place at her hips. 

He raised an eyebrow at her sign of strength, “I should get you to teach a few training classes,” the pride in his voice warmed her. 

Farah laughed and raised herself up on her knees, “the students are already terrified of me,” she smirked, “when they see me kick your ass, they’ll have nightmares.” 

She took him in her hand, her thumb skimming the head of his cock and his breath caught. “What…” she did it again and he faltered, “fuck, what makes you think you’d win?” 

Farah lined him up with her and as she sank down, the slide slow and slick, said, “I always do.” She bottomed out and had to close her eyes, reveling in the feeling of him filling her so completely. Saul ran his hands up and down her torso and over her breasts, with brazen possessiveness. 

She was his, and he was hers. 

It was when his thumb brushed against her clit that Farah remembered to move. Her hands were braced on his chest, fingers curling with each slide, her hair a wild curtain. Her head was thrown back, and one look at the corded muscles of her throat tore a growl from Saul. His hands came to her lower back and he sat up, hitting her at a completely new angle as he bit her neck. Farah could feel it but instead of annoyance at having to hide it, she was flooded with heat; with the idea of being his. He marked her, but he had from the moment she felt that tug in her chest. 

Her movement slowed as he ran his tongue over the red marks, head trailing down her chest until he sucked on a hard nipple, her hands in his hair. He released her with a small pop, and fell back to the bed, his hands once again at her hips, but instead of letting her take control, he placed his feet flat on the bed and lightly picked her up. He thrust into her relentlessly, her knuckles white as they gripped his upper arms. “Yes, yes…” her pupils were blown black when she looked at him, “I think about you…” her chin fell to her chest and she took rapid breaths, “gods, like this, every day…” her whimpers and moans urged him on, the sweat along her breasts and forehead made her look ethereal.

His goddess. His Farah. 

He could feel the heat deep in his stomach and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Farah must have felt it too, because he watched as one hand skimmed over her breasts and stopped at the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. The sight of her touching herself while he was still thrusting inside of her did it, and within moments, they came together. 

Farah collapsed on him, her breathing ragged, arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed his chin. He could feel himself leaking out of her, and despite being absolutely spent, his cock twitched. 

“Every day…” her voice was rough and she kissed his cheek, “I want to do that every day.” 

He laughed into her hair. “If you give me some time, we can do it again.” He felt her smile against his chest. 

“I love you, Saul. Even if we have a thousand years together it will never be enough.” 

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her once more, “I love you.” And he once again, showed her just how much. 

\------------------------------

Farah didn’t want to leave her suite or Saul, but she knew she had to find Bloom and she wanted to bury the Burned Ones (when Saul bristled at that, she explained that they had been human at some point...it was the right thing to do to offer them some peace in the afterlife.) The meeting with Bloom was long overdue; there were things that needed to be said, and she couldn’t wait another day, especially with Rosalind free. 

Saul helped her with the zipper of her dress, the two of them freshly showered after a morning of love making. Her body hasn’t felt this wonderfully spent or relaxed in quite some time, and from his languid movements, she knew he felt the same. 

“What are you going to say to her?” He took a sip of the tea he made and rested against the kitchen counter. 

Farah wrapped a scarf around her neck, the bite mark he left on her luckily hidden by the neckline of the dress, and pulled on her coat. “I just want the opportunity to explain, without any life or death situations hanging overhead.” 

Saul nodded, “I’m going to finish getting ready and see if I can find Sky.” Farah walked to him and cupped his cheek. He told her this morning that he told Sky about what really happened to Andreas, and she knew that he was scared the boy would never forgive him. 

“He loves you, Saul,” she tilted her head, her eyes drinking in his beautiful face, “give him time.” She reached past him and finished the rest of his tea. But before she could get away he grabbed the sleeve of her coat and pulled her back to him, his hands going inside her coat and caressing her sides, his fingers brushing the underside of her breasts. 

“Insatiable man,” she said against his lips. 

He placed a final peck to her lips, “it's why you love me.” 

Farah stood there, her head tilted, voice serious, “there are so many reasons why I love you,” Saul looked away with a blush spreading along his cheeks, but she didn’t let him get away. She placed a finger under his chin and he met her eyes, “when we go on that vacation, I’m going to tell you every single one of them.” 

Saul closed his eyes and when he opened them again, she saw there was a slight sheen to them. They kissed, long and slow until neither had air left in their lungs. 

“I’ll find you after,” she stopped at the door and turned to him one last time. The light was coming in from the window behind him and he was bathed in sunshine. “I love you.” 

He winked at her. “I love you.”

\---------------------------------------------

When Farah found Bloom outside on the lawn with Sky she felt an odd sense of deja vu. The two of them reminded her of Saul and herself. As Bloom neared her, Farah felt nervous, her stomach tightening at the small smile Bloom sent her way. Almost immediately, she felt a sense of calm flood her, and smiled. _Saul._

The pair walked to Farah's office in companionable silence, Farah offering her a seat on the couch, which she took to the chair by the table. “How are you feeling?”

Bloom’s hands were hidden under the cuffs of her sweatshirts, her shoulders tense and pulled forward. “A bit rough but, you know, I’ll survive.”

“Well you drew on a great deal of magic last night. You’re bound to feel drained for--”

“I’ve been a brat.”

Farah stopped speaking, eyes wide. 

Bloom fidgeted with her hands as she said, “I can’t stop thinking about what I said to you last night. You’ve...you’ve been incredible to me,” she stopped and chuckled, “you found me when I was lost, brought me to a safe place, gave me guidance. You...surrounded me with amazing people.” She shook her head and stood up, “and I’ve...I’ve just been…”

“It’s forgiven.” Farah looked up at her, her voice rough with emotion. 

Bloom gave her a small smile, “do you um…” she pointed at herself, “can we...hug?” 

Farah was stunned into silence. Bloom held her hands out as an invitation, but the longer Farah hesitated, she could see the girl second guessing herself. Just as Bloom was about to turn away and give up, Farah stood and embraced her. Farah let her head rest against Bloom’s and closed her eyes, fighting back the tears she felt at the strength in Bloom's hug, her arms coming around Farah and holding her to the spot. 

After a few minutes, Farah released a chuckle followed by a shaky breath and they released one another. “When I became Headmistress, I made a decision to become a figurehead.” Needing to do something with her hands, she turned to the tea tray and began to pour them each a cupful, “to project strength... it's what students your age need. Admitting mistakes invites uncertainty.” She held the cups in each hand, holding one out for Bloom, “but not admitting them means people you care about have to ask you if you hug.” 

Bloom smiled at her, letting Farah know that she understood, and that she cared about her, too. 

“I should have been more honest with you early on.” 

Bloom looked away and gave a slight shake of her head, “I mean...maybe but, maybe I needed time.” 

Farah nodded and the two sat, both of them finding peace in the honesty and care they found in the other. After another hour of talking and opening up, Farah let her go. “There’s no reason for you to spend a beautiful day stuck inside with the Headmistress,” she smiled at her, “go find your friends.” Bloom smiled at her but before leaving, she stepped forward and pulled Farah into one more hug. 

“Thank you, Ms. Dowling.”

Farah squeezed her, “you never have to thank me. Good luck with your parents and safe travels. I’ll see you in a few days.” 

They shared a smile and Bloom was gone. 

Left alone and with nothing to work on, Farah went back to her suite to change clothes. She wanted to head out to the cemetery to bury the Burned Ones’ bodies. Her mind drifted to Saul and hoped that he and Sky were managing as well as she and Bloom. 

\-------------------------- 

Saul found Sky at the training meadow. There wasn’t much said between them, with Sky’s anger and betrayal palpable, and Saul understood. But he will never fully be able to explain what it meant to him that the young man didn’t walk away, but instead, settled in beside him and headed back to the school. Farah was right, it would just take time. 

They were at the circle drive when the crunch of gravel could be heard. 

The number of cars approaching were far more than necessary for a Royal visit. 

“Why are the Solarians here? I told them the attack was over,” Saul watched as they parked, blocking him and Sky in, Solarian soldiers pouring out of the vehicles, forming a tight unit in front of Saul. As they made a move for the Head Specialist, Sky put his hand on the pommel of his sword, “what the hell is going on?” 

Saul placed his hand on Sky’s arm, “easy, Sky.” His mouth went dry, and dread coiled in his stomach. He tried to calm himself so as to not alert Farah. 

The back door of the SUV closest to them opened. Sky lowered his sword the tiniest bit, “Queen Luna.”

Saul felt the cold claws of dread rake down his back, “your Majesty.” 

Luna, ever the appearance of control and power, glided up to him, “Saul Silva. It is with a heavy heart I must place you under arrest.” 

Saul furrowed his brows, “for what?” 

“The attemped murder of Andreas of Eraklyon.”

“Attempted,” Sky asked at his side.

A car door opened, Saul and Sky turning to the sound, and there stood the friend Saul thought he murdered sixteen years ago, very much alive. 

“Hello, Sky.”

\------------------------------------

Farah could feel Rosalind before she approached, the large amount of magic the woman absorbed could be felt vibrating in the earth and along the trees, her lack of fear at being caught reminding Farah of just how dangerous she was. 

This had been Rosalind’s plan since the beginning. From the very moment she discovered Bloom’s existence, and placed that memory in her mind, every piece was sidelined until their proper moment. 

And it seemed that now, it was down to the two of them. 

“You buried them. How noble.” Not that Rosalind knew the first thing about being noble or doing what was right. 

Farah felt a shiver run down her spine, “well, it seems fitting seeing as how they were clearly human at one time.” Farah kept her hands in her pockets, and turned to finally take in Rosalind. “But then you knew about them, didn’t you?” 

“I did. I did.” Her tone was patronizing. 

Farah felt her fingers curl in her pockets. Gods she wanted to wipe that smirk off Rosalind’s face. She forgot just how much she hated her. But, she also knew that the longer she kept the woman talking, getting her to share whatever pieces of information she could get, the better. And it just may keep Farah breathing a little longer. “Are there more out there?” 

“Shit ton.” 

It was then that Farah felt a spike of fear in her chest that she knew did not belong to her. _Saul._ She licked her lips and took a steadying breath, tugging on the line so he knew she was with him. Every part of her wanted to leave Rosalind and go to him; she could taste his fear at the back of her throat, and she tried to send back a tug, letting him know that he was not alone. 

He wouldn’t want her to lose sight of Rosalind. He’d want her to stay. 

Rosalind sat on a bench and patted the spot next to her. Farah refused to meet her eyes. “Oh gods, don’t pout, Farah.” She tilted her head, “fine. I’ll let you in on a little secret just this once. There’s a legend. It’s a thousand years old, that’s how old the Burned Ones are by the way…” she trailed off allowing that fact to settle into Farah’s brain. “They were soldiers from an ancient war. The legend is about the magic used against them. It created them. It's powerful. It's primal. The Dragon Flame. It burns inside our changeling friend.”

Farah bristled at Rosalind’s mention of the girl. “So that’s why Bloom was able to transform so easily.”

“With my guidance, yes. The Burned Ones never stood a chance.”

“You let Burned Ones into the school to test her?” Her voice rose as she took a few steps forward, “risk the lives of countless students?” 

“There’s a war on the horizon-”

Farah sighed. Always a war. Always at the expense of others. 

“The Burned Ones are nothing compared to what’s coming. I fear you lack the,” she tilted her head and took Farah in, “...composure to lead the next generation into it.”

Farah smiled, she’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop, “and there it is,” she took that seat on the bench, leaning right into Rosalind’s face. She wanted the older woman to see her as she was: the formidable and caring Headmistress of Alfea, the powerful woman who cleaned up the wake of horror that Rosalind grew from and left behind, the woman who found love and friendship where this woman thrived in darkness and being alone. Farah’s voice dropped a few octaves as she said, “Once I stepped out from under your shadow, I saw a world full of light...turns out this place isn’t miserable, it was just **_you_ **.” 

Rosalind braced her elbow on the back of the bench, “what a shame Queen Luna doesn’t agree with you. I was planning to threaten her with exposing her role in the cover-up at Aster Dell, but apparently, she’s been mad at you for some time. Something about her daughter and Ricki?”

Farah felt a lead stone fall in the pit of her stomach. Rosalind continued, “She agreed the school could use a change and I have a feeling that most of the faculty will fall in line when I walk through those doors. Ben will certainly keep quiet for the sake of his children…” Farah felt her heart crack at the mention of her dear friend, and knowing that he would do whatever was necessary to protect his children, and those in the school from Rosalind. “...Saul would have been a problem, but he’ll be on trial for the murder of Andreas.” It was the first break of Farah's facade. “Sorry, attempted murder.” 

The fissures that were there on her heart widened into large cachasms. 

_Attempted. Andreas was alive._

Saul spent the last sixteen years believing he murdered his friend. It clicked into place then, when at Aster Dell, Saul went to retrieve Andreas’ body and it was gone. The man either escaped on his own or had help. That fear she felt at learning all of this caused her to tug on their bond. She felt it come back weak...something was wrong. She knew she couldn’t let Rosalind see what Saul meant to her, the woman would no doubt get perverse pleasure at ripping him apart piece by piece to destroy Farah. 

The older woman kept speaking, as though talking to an old friend, catching up on the comings and goings of life. Farah felt sick to her stomach. “Poor, Andreas. It couldn’t have been easy to stay in hiding for so long, but I needed someone to raise Bellatrix, in case you were wondering who was working with me on the outside.” She stopped and smiled. “So,” she scooted closer to Farah, “now all we have to talk about is _you_.” Rosalind raised her eyebrows, “I think you should take a sabbatical. Head to the mountains, take a break. You’ve worked so hard, Farah…”

Like there was any way in hell she’d leave these students behind; as if she’d leave Ben or Saul behind. Farah grabbed onto Rosalind’s coat, “ **_I_ ** am the Headmistress of Alfea, and there’s no way I'm leaving the school in your hands.” She let go and returned to where the bodies were buried.

She could hear Rosalind get up from the bench, and her voice as she continued speaking...Farah knew she only had seconds. Silently calling on her magic, she sent images to Ben - where she was, her conversation with Rosalind, the news about Saul- and then gave one final tug on the bond between her and Saul. Farah filled it to the brim with all the love she has for him, and she sent him one message, her voice clear and bright in his mind: _“Remember, it's all about appearances. I love you.”_

“I know that,” Rosalind said as she rose from the bench…

Farah took a deep breath and called on her magic just as she felt a strong, warm tug on her bond with Saul....

“...the rest of the world might believe it,” Rosalind raised her hand, “and if they don’t...” the snap of Farah’s neck was loud and perverse in the sanctity of the forest, “...what the fuck are they gonna do about it?” 

Farah’s body fell to the dirt floor with a deafening thud, the earth swallowing her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. (And please don't hate me!) 
> 
> I wanted to stay true to what the show gave us, and I felt it best to end this chapter where the actual show ended. I have the next chapter mostly finished...there is more. Farah and Saul's (and Ben's) stories are not finished. <3 
> 
> As always, I would love to hear what you think of this chapter. And to those of you who consistently leave me beautiful comments, and tell me that you've read this story multiple times while waiting for an update: I see you and appreciate you and love you. Your kindness and support mean the world. :) <3
> 
> I wanted to give you the heads up that I may be a bit slower uploading next week- you've been getting chapters each Wednesday, so you may have to wait until next weekend. My birthday is this weekend (the 28th- hello, 36!), and I will be spending it with my immediate family, a lot of self care, and working on a personal writing project that I've been neglecting. 
> 
> Sending love as always,  
> Nicole


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We start a few nights before that final scene in episode six, after Farah and Saul question Beatrix. And then we come back to "present" time with Farah and Rosalind seated on the bench. Let me (kindly) know what you think!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. All of these characters belong to the original creators, and to Netflix. The only thing I own are the pieces of their story that come directly from my mind. That, and a lot of books.
> 
> *All mistakes are my own. No beta.

**A few nights ago, after Saul and Farah went to speak with Beatrix.**

These last few days had taken a toll on all of them. Their exhaustion was obvious and Farah could feel that these next days would tax them even more. The trio spent much of the evening working on setting up the pairs for the simulation training, and once finished, none made a move to head back to their own offices or suites, instead, relishing the quiet and the company of their friends; with a bottle of fire whiskey and food brought up from the kitchens. Saul and Farah were seated on the couch, while Ben lounged in an armchair. 

It was Saul who broke the silence. “It’s time we discuss contingency plans of our own.” He let his hand trail along Farah’s arm, stopping to lace their fingers together. 

“You already have the makings of one, don’t you,” Ben said, his eyebrow raised. 

Saul nodded, releasing Farah’s hand, he leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. “A few, actually,” he felt Farah move beside him, sitting up, the exhaustion in her eyes previously, was now gone. Saul ran his tongue over his lips and watched as Farah’s eyes tracked the movement. He gave her a smile and she blushed in return. 

Ben leaned forward, mirroring Saul’s posture, and nodded at him to continue. 

“We need to plan for the possibility that Luna is a piece of this puzzle,” he ran his hand over his face, “we need to know what steps we can take to bring down or accuse a member of the Royal family of a crime…” he trailed off letting the implications of something like that sink in. 

Farah sighed and closed her eyes. If it turned out that anything pointed to Luna’s involvement, they would need tangible, irrefutable evidence to prove her guilt; that she did indeed cover up Aster Dell and it was her decision to do so (because she would turn on the three of them in a heartbeat), if it was her controlling Beatrix, and that she had some hand in what was going on with the Burned Ones. 

It seemed impossible.

“And the other?” 

Farah answered Ben’s question but her eyes were on Saul, “the other is for when Rosalind is released.”

Ben took in a breath, the sound abrasive in the quiet room. Saul gave her a grave nod.

“ _When,_ ” Ben repeated. 

Farah stood, nodding, “it makes sense,” she walked over to the bookshelf, her mind on the woman trapped, for now, in the undercroft, “we’d be naive to think it _won’t_ happen with everything we’ve seen and the information we’ve gathered,” she let out a shuddering breath, “and we’ll be sitting ducks when it does.” Her shoulders slumped forward and she bit her lip. 

Gods, this was a mess. 

She turned back to the two men, “what’s the first thing she would need to do once freed?” 

Ben leaned back in the chair, “she’d be weak,” Farah nodded urging him to continue, “but knowing her she’d want to get out of here as quickly as possible.” He stood up, his arms crossed, “do we really think this is even a possibility?” He walked to the window that overlooked the grounds, “can she get out,” he whispered more to himself, than his companions. 

Farah came up behind him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. He turned to face her. “We knew there was always a chance that she could get out, and we did everything we could to make sure it wouldn’t happen, but Saul is right,” she glanced at him over her shoulder, “we need to be prepared. If we’re not, we don’t stand a chance at containing her or saving the students from her and whatever plan she’s had in motion for the last sixteen years.” She released a breath, “I’m scared too, Ben.” There was a quiver in her voice, and she was glad they heard it. This was real. Everything they worked for as well as their very lives were on the line. Rosalind would be ruthless; the endgame either their fealty or deaths. 

Saul stood and came over to his friends, “me too, mate. But we do this, and we do this right, we stand a better chance.” He ran his hand down Farah’s back, and felt some of her tension fade. “No one knows her better than the three of us, so…” he shrugged, “let’s get back to it, yea?” 

Farah watched as a multitude of emotion rippled across Ben’s face, and she knew his thoughts were on Sam and Terra. Her’s were, too. And on the hundreds of other students that lived and learned under their roof. 

“Rest would be essential, but Rosalind would be more interested in recharging as quickly as possible. She’d want to be at full power.” 

“The Stone Circle.” 

Ben nodded at Farah, “it’s a conduit. She could channel what she would need to ensure she was at peak strength.”

“That would risk the barrier weakening,” Saul said, as he stood over a map of the grounds, “if Burned Ones get close enough, she’d risk them gaining entry to the school?” 

“She wouldn’t care,” Farah’s voice was rough, “a few casualties for whatever her grand plan is would be nothing to her. She would also expect us to be there to keep any of that from happening, we’d be distracted.” Her head fell forward, “we need to prepare the students as best we can,” she said more for herself than her friends. 

“If Burned Ones get onto the grounds we’ll gather the students in the courtyard, barricade and prepare,” Saul said, “but we need to be ready for Luna not responding to our requests for aid…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “what do we do then?” 

“You really think she’d leave us sitting here?” 

Farah turned to Ben, her face grim, “she said as much to me the last time we spoke.” 

Ben cursed. 

“We have the remaining Specialists and the fourth years take the front lines, our strongest faeries with them,” Saul turned to Farah, “if she’s as powerful as you say, we’ll need her.” 

Farah’s shoulders slumped and she dropped into the chair behind her. “I don’t want to, Saul. Not unless it's absolutely necessary. Her emotions are all over the place and I can’t take a risk on what that will do to her magic.” 

“Bloom has handled a Burned One, she’s been training and working with Sky…” Saul bent down to catch her eye, “we will need her.” 

She held his gaze, “put that on the backburner for now,” she lifted her chin in Ben’s direction, “after Rosalind recharges, what next?” 

Ben bit his lip, “she’d hide.” Farah and Saul shared matching furrowed brows, “she would....she would know that we’d be out looking for her so she’ll go somewhere until the time is right.” He ran his hand over his face, “if she’s planned this since Aster Dell, and there’s a possibility that she has had some level of consciousness this entire time, and has gone over this extensively,” his voice was grim, “she will know what we would do, too. She will know that we will be looking for her, and she’ll make herself scarce until she’s ready to pounce and when she does that…” he trailed off and he fell back into the cushions of the couch. 

“...when she does that she’ll separate us.” Farah’s voice was small. 

“She knows we’re stronger together,” Saul added, “she knows we’re united against her. It would make sense.” He sat next to Ben. “Would she try to turn us against one another?” 

Farah shook her head, “she wouldn’t risk it not working and showing her hand. She’d take us out of the game, entirely.” 

A deep furrow formed between Saul’s eyes, “what do you mean?” 

Farah hated it but she put herself in Rosalind’s shoes. “Ben would be easiest,” at the look of embarrassment and hurt she amended, “because of Sam and Terra. She would use them as bargaining chips to make sure you fall in line. And we understand, Ben.” She sat up straighter, “she wouldn’t try and turn us against one another,” she gestured from herself to Saul, “she knows there’s too much history there... it wouldn’t work…” he smiled at her and she felt it in her chest, the warmth spreading to her chilled bones, “she would remove us from the game altogether.” 

“I wouldn’t play.” 

“No, you wouldn't. And neither would I, but…” Farah trailed off and when Saul looked at her, he could see she was far away. 

“Fa?” He got up from his spot on the couch and kneeled before her, his hand a heavy, but pleasant weight on her knee. 

“I don’t know what she’ll do with you, Saul,” she brought her hand up to his cheek, her thumb absently grazing his stubble, “she’ll take you away or lock you up. You hold too much sway here with the students and the Specialists,” her voice broke, but she cleared her throat, “I think...I think she may try to kill me.” 

Saul felt as though he were punched in the chest, and he let his forehead rest on her thigh, her hand coming to caress the back of his head. 

Ben moved, too, coming to sit on the arm of the chair Farah was in. “You think she’ll **_kill_ ** you?” 

Farah looked up at him, tears in her eyes, “I think she’ll try.” She felt Saul’s head move and when she looked down, it broke her heart. There was a sheen to his eyes and she knew the words she whispered next would only make it worse. “And I think we should let her…”

Saul jumped up from his spot on the floor, the look in his eyes a combination of hurt and white hot anger. “No,” his eyes were wild as they bore into her, “no, that’s not an option.” He backed away from her and ran both hands through his hair. 

Ben too, moved away from her, his hand covering his mouth, his back to the pair. 

Farah could feel Saul’s anger deep in her chest, it was consuming, but she also knew it was fueled by fear. She had to take some steadying breaths to make sure that his anger didn’t fuel her own; she knew she could do this. 

She gave both men a minute before she pushed forward. “Please,” they turned towards her, and she gestured to the couch. Ben looked to Saul and the Specialist clenched his jaw as he finally took a seat. Ben followed. 

Farah stood from the chair and went to sit on the table in front of both men, moving plates and papers out of her way. “I appreciate and understand both of your reactions,” she let her hands rest in her lap, “but I am not saying we let her _actually_ kill me,” she shook her head and raised her eyebrow, “it's something Luna said when she was here for the assembly, that’s given me an idea…”

“That woman is not one to take advice from, Farah.” 

She rolled her eyes at Saul, “yes, thank you, now if I may…” Saul gave a flick of his wrist and she continued. “Luna made repeated references to,” she put the phrase in air quotes, “‘keeping up appearances’ when she was here observing Stella,” she paused and took a breath, “what if, should she try, I make Rosalind _believe_ she succeeded in killing me.” 

Ben removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, “an illusion.” 

She nodded. 

“Can someone please explain this to me,” Saul’s voice was small and his gaze was stuck on the floor. 

Farah ran her hand up and around his wrist, her thumb stroking his pulsepoint until he met her eyes. “Magic, Saul. I pool everything I have, see if I can infiltrate her mind, which should be easier because those mental walls will be at their weakest, and I can hopefully gain an understanding of what she’s thinking of doing,” she released a breath, “...and create an image in her mind, that I am actually dead.” 

There was some light back in his eyes when he asked, “is that possible?”

“For Farah, yes.” Ben cleared his throat and stood, facing both of them. “We know that she has the ability and power to call on other forms of magic, it’s something that not many fairies can do.” He began pacing in front of her desk, “fairies can call on magic within our own,” he waved his hands in front of him, “element.” He made one of Farah’s potted plants grow, causing a lily to blossom, “but we can also call on what one would consider neighboring elements,” he was able to pull water from the soil of the plant, to water an orchid in the corner. “However, there are some forms of magic that cannot work together--” 

“--like fire and water for instance,” Farah cut in. “Bloom would find it difficult to manipulate water as Aisha would a flame,” she shrugged, “the two magics cancel one another out.” 

“But Aisha could, should she learn, call on earth magic and Bloom on air,” Ben added. 

Saul nodded, and Farah could see the tension in his shoulders, though still present, somewhat lessening at their information. 

“Our dear, Farah,” Ben stopped and leaned against her desk, “can call on, manipulate, whatever you choose to call it, all elements of magic.” He tilted his head at her, “which is something that only a few fairies in our history have been able to do.” 

“Is it because you’re a mind fairy,” Saul asked, awe and pride in his voice. He always knew she was brilliant, but he thought the magic she used was something cultivated. Saul didn’t truly understand, until now, that her ability to wield all forms was something that was _hers_. 

Farah shrugged, “there isn’t much information on the subject,” she glanced at Ben who nodded, “I know that mind magic is the strongest of my abilities, but I’ve always been able to use the other elements.” She stopped and looked away, “over the years it’s gotten stronger as I’ve gotten stronger... it’s one of the reasons Rosalind took me under her wing.” 

“She does like to collect,” Saul muttered. 

Ben nodded. 

Rosalind had a penchant for surrounding herself with the best and the brightest. It was why their group was the one chosen for Aster Dell. Farah, Ben, Saul and Andreas were the best of Alfea when they were students; combined, they were a force to be reckoned with. Rosalind’s obsession with power was palpable, and the three who remained knew it was that force that would drive the woman...she would do whatever it took to take her place at the top, again. 

Saul cleared his throat, “so you can do this,” his hand waved in the air, “create an illusion?” 

Farah shrugged, “I’ve been able to perform what one would consider small illusions, I’ve never tried something so complex.” She stood and took a breath, calling on her magic. 

Ben stumbled back and Saul shot up from his seat, a strangled cry escaping him. Farah, where only moments before was warm, and light, and breathing, was now covered in blood, her face ashen, wounds covered her arms, chest and face. There was a look of utter terror and pain written across her features. 

“Enough,” Saul bellowed. 

The illusion dropped and she sat in the chair behind her. “I’m sorry,” she ran her hand along the back of her neck, “I wanted you to see--” 

Saul took a deep breath and kneeled in front of her once again, “I don’t,” he pressed his lips together, “not again, okay?” 

She nodded and placed a quick kiss to his lips. 

“What do you need from us?” 

She looked up at Ben and said, “I need to see how long I can hold it,” she shrugged and placed her hand on her heart, “if I can go so far as to infuse the illusion that I am...dead.” 

Saul went to speak but stopped when he felt Ben’s hand on his shoulder, “I’ll help you, there.” He looked down and gave Saul a sad smile, “we can meet in the evenings and see what you can do and,” he gestured at her extensive personal library, “I'll see what I can find here.” 

Farah gripped his free hand and squeezed, “thank you, Ben.” 

Saul stood, rolling his neck, wincing at the pops, “so we have a tentative plan for when Rosalind kills Farah,” he felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought, “what’s the next steps for us?” He gestured between him and Ben. 

Farah finished the whiskey that was in her glass, “I don’t know if we can truly plan for that. There’s too many moving parts.” She settled back into the chair, her mind in a million different places. “She would take the school back, and the only way to do that would be to get rid of me,” Saul flinched, “and she’d have to make sure you couldn’t get in her way…” she trailed off and bit her lip. “I think they’d give you to Luna,” the thought made her sick to her stomach, “and anything after that I could only imagine…” 

“Gods,” Ben whispered as he took a seat once again. 

Farah bit her lip, “you know we’d come for you, don’t you?” 

Saul tilted his head and gave her a soft smile, “would I come for you?” 

She gave a slow close of her eyes and nodded. 

“I think you’re right about Luna,” Saul rubbed his chin, “once you’re in the clear, you’ll have to get a message to us. So we can prepare ourselves for what’s coming.” 

_That I can do._

Ben and Saul heard her voice clear as day in their minds. 

Saul sat next to Ben, and Farah once again moved to sit on the table. She put her hands on both of theirs. “We’re telling the students to be prepared and trust themselves, we have to do the same.” She met each of their gazes, “Rosalind only knows us as the people we were that day,” she closed her eyes, the smell of ash as overwhelming as it had been sixteen years ago, “she hasn’t witnessed who we’ve become or what we’re capable of. We have the upper hand here.” Farah let her thumb run over Saul’s knuckles as she turned to Ben. “We’ll start tomorrow?” She looked at the clock, “or later today, rather.” 

Ben nodded and took that as his cue to leave. He patted Saul on the back and gave Farah a kiss to her cheek. 

Once alone, Farah moved to sit next to Saul, not a millimeter of space between them. He wrapped one arm around her, pulling her even closer, “the thought of her…” 

She placed a lingering kiss on his chin, “I won’t let her. I have too much to live for.” She felt the swell of love in her chest for this man, and knew he could feel it, too. “And she always underestimated me…” Farah’s voice was quiet but held such contempt and anger towards Rosalind, “let her think me the naive girl she trained all those years ago.” 

Saul kissed the top of her head, and pulled her towards him, “just be careful, Farah.” She snuggled closer to him, tucking her feet beneath her, and the two of them watched the stars in the night sky, their minds and hearts on one another. 

\-----------------------------------------

**Present Day at the cemetery with Rosalind**

When Farah stood from the bench, she could feel Rosalind’s simmering anger, and used that moment of emotional weakness to glance into her mind. The older woman’s mental barriers used to be far stronger, but sixteen years of being bound had taken much of her muscle memory; thus there were cracks Farah was able to sneak through. 

Rosalind expected Farah to walk away, to be naive enough to turn her back on a viper; that’s when she’d strike. 

Farah left the woman’s mind, and called enough magic to send messages to Ben -the cemetery, Rosalind behind her, the important parts of their conversation, and the news about Saul- and breathed easier knowing he received them. She could feel tears gather in her eyes as she sent a final message to Saul. Farah made sure to fill it with all the love her very being held for him, and then a message, her voice clear: _“Remember, it's all about appearances. I love you.”_

Farah and Ben spent hours working on her illusion, so much so, she knew they both suffered nightmares from the images she managed to create. With a deep breath, she called on every molecule of magic in her body, her feet leaving the ground due to Rosalind’s magic, when she felt the strong, warm tug on her bond with Saul.

Farah struck. 

Planting an illusion of this magnitude requires a great understanding and wielding of magic. The fairy needs to be able to bridge the gap between what is and what could be; finding in the middle, a truth that he or she wants one to believe. Farah knew once Rosalind understood she would not give up without a fight, the woman’s only other option would be to kill her. Farah also knew that Rosalind would want her broken...the snapping of her neck would ensure that there was no way for Farah to return. 

So, that’s what Farah planted when she managed to see inside Rosalind’s mind earlier, depositing the idea of breaking her neck, dropping her to the ground and then letting the earth swallow her up, leaving her to rot with the bodies from the night before. 

Once suspended in midair, Farah called on her magic again, to pull her from Rosalind’s hold while simultaneously planting the image Rosalind would want and believe in the most: of her winning. Everything that Rosalind saw, Farah’s lack of a struggle, her inability to fight back, the breaking of her neck and burial, was pure glamour. 

Farah, the woman alive and breathing, now stood beside one of the tall trees that surrounded the cemetery, cultivating and holding the scene in Rosalind’s mind, until finally, her body dropped to the floor and was gone. 

She watched as Rosalind turned and left, no sign of remorse for killing Farah. If anything, the woman looked smug, no doubt excited at the prospect of telling Ben and Saul that their friend was dead. 

Farah held the illusion until she could no longer see or feel Rosalind and her magic. The image was securely planted in her mind, and Farah made sure to create a physical representation should the woman return: a newly dug seventh grave, white flowers blooming. 

With her last bit of magic spent, Farah collapsed against the tree, her coat snagging on bark and vines, knees and shins hitting the ground, hard. She winced and took a shuddering breath, her body cold and weak. She felt her stomach lurch at everything that transpired in these last minutes, her mind immediately on Saul, the idea of him being carted away, a prisoner. Farah began to retch, she had to brace herself on the unforgiving ground as she threw up the remnants of tea and breakfast from this morning. A moment that felt like eons ago. 

Tears sprang to her eyes. She was of no use to Saul now, but she and Ben knew where he was and what Rosalind and Luna intended to do...all Farah had to do was plan a counter attack. 

She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her coat and let her body rest against the tree. 

Listening to the sounds of the forest, she closed her eyes and waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting! My birthday weekend was spent reading, writing, and filling myself up with wine and cake. I was able to make a dent in my personal writing project, and worked on this fic. :) I hope you are all doing well, and I hope this chapter meets expectations. The safety net of the show's prewritten narrative is gone and it's all on me...this is what I'm hoping is the case with that ending. Farah has to come back in Season 2...she's too much of a brilliant badass to get taken out like that (I also just NEED more Eve Best in my life, she's magnificent)!
> 
> Many thanks and much love,  
> Nicole <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here...we...go...
> 
> Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. All of these characters belong to the original creators, and to Netflix. The only thing I own are the pieces of their story that come directly from my mind. That, and a lot of books.
> 
> *All mistakes are my own. No beta.

Andreas’ stare was unforgiving as he placed the metal around Saul’s wrists, the cuffs heavy against his skin, and far tighter than they needed to be, and Saul knew from Andreas’ cold and calculating gaze, it was done on purpose.

Andreas leaned forward, and Saul, to his credit, didn’t step back. “If it had been up to me, I’d have gutted you the moment I stepped out of the car,” he spat at the ground, “but Rosalind convinced me it’d be more fun to keep you alive.” He handed Saul off to the other guards, and they led him away towards one of the SUVs. With one quick glance at Sky, Saul felt gut wrenched at the devastation and shock on the young man’s face; at the way he stood torn between the father he thought dead, and the man who raised him these last fourteen years. Saul hoped he gave Sky a reassuring smile, as he was led away. 

Saul felt numb, and for the first time in his life, at a loss as to what to do next. He always had a plan, it's what made him an exceptional Specialist, but in this moment, he was filled with an amalgamation of emotion- anger, fear, uncertainty- a wall that kept any semblance of thought or planning out of his mind. 

The driver barely spared him a glance, eyes only narrowing when Saul was forced in the car, before turning back to the scene at the front of the school. It was then Saul heard her, _“Remember, it's all about appearances. I love you.”_ Her voice in his mind was just as clear as if she were beside him -deep, and calming- and he felt her love for him swell in his chest. He sent it back to her ten fold, praying to any Gods who would listen that she succeeded. 

Saul tugged at the cuffs, the movement making them dig further into his skin, and he cursed. He watched as Andreas went to stand beside Beatrix, Luna coming up behind them. They stood exceptionally close for two people who prior to Aster Dell, could not stand one another. The pair often got into arguments about funding for the battalion, and support from Luna’s army, but here, there was a familiarity that was unnerving. 

But not nearly as unnerving as the way Beatrix acted and responded to Andreas, or the way in which he checked over the cuts left behind from the Runic Limiters. There was a paternal softness to his movement, in the way his hand patted her shoulder, and the way she leaned towards him. It spoke of a familial bond, somewhat similar to the way Terra and Sam were with Ben, how Bloom responded to Farah, and even in the way Sky interacted with him. 

Saul felt sick. It seemed that in the aftermath of Aster Dell, whomever cared for Andreas, which Saul would bet Luna had a hand in, also entrusted Beatrix to his care. Saul licked his lips and ground his teeth. From what he heard of Luna’s parenting style, combined with Andreas’ bloodlust and need for revenge these sixteen years, and the lies she was told about Aster Dell...it explained quite a bit about the girl. 

Andreas gave a group of guards an order and Saul watched as they headed off in the direction of the greenhouse. 

“No,” he struggled in the backseat to get to the door opposite of the driver, and his hands were on the handle before the man could even get out of his seat. 

“No!” He screamed, guards coming towards him, he managed to elbow one in the face, kick another in the stomach, and use his bound hands to crack one in the jaw, before he was grabbed from behind. He thrashed like a rapid beast, sweat forming along his brows and upper lip. “You leave him alone, Andreas!” 

Andreas watched the scuffle and walked towards Saul, “The Professor has done nothing wrong, Saul,” his smile was serpentine, “we just want to make sure he understands that Alfea is under new…” he waved his hand in the air, his eyes catching on something just behind Saul that caused his eyes to widen and his smile to blossom across his face, “management.” 

“I knew this one would be a problem.” 

Saul felt ice flood his veins at the sound of Rosalind’s voice. He turned to look at her as she appraised him, chained and feral, as though he were nothing more than a bug on the bottom of her shoe. “You can stop fighting you, know,” she walked towards him until her lips were by his ear, “she’s dead.” 

She pulled away to look at Rosalind, her smile growing as his eyes filled with tears, and his lips trembled, he collapsed to the ground, the guards releasing him so he sat hunched in the dirt. 

Andreas came closer, and Saul wanted to punch that smile off his face. 

“Our dear, Farah didn’t accept my offer at a sabbatical,” Rosalind shrugged, “she was always a stupid girl,” her lips curled into something dark and ominous, “seems she grew into an even more senseless woman.” Saul closed his eyes, his chin tucked into his chest. She knelt before him, and used her finger to push his face up so their eyes met. “Farah turned her back on me and when she did, I broke her pretty, little neck,” she snapped her fingers and Saul flinched. 

Rosalind stood, “we can take care of this problem just as easily,” her eyes glowed but before she could make a move, Andreas placed his hand on her arm, knuckles turning white as he gripped her coat. 

“You said he would be mine,” he took in the image of Saul on the ground, defeated and smiled, “I want to break him, too.” 

Rosalind rolled her eyes, and with a flick of her fingers, Andreas released her. From where she stood and without warning, Rosalind bore into Saul’s mind. Usually, he would be able to put up a fight. He trained with Farah, as did Ben, since fourth year to build their mental shields. But, as with magic, untamed emotion and exhaustion can weaken anyone’s defenses. 

Where Farah was gentle, always aware of her strength, Rosalind was a serrated blade, doing as much damage entering the mind as she did coming out. She licked her lips, a predator ready to shred her prey apart, but instead of claws in flesh, she left the image of Farah in midair, her neck snapped, and body thrown to the floor. Saul felt his heart break at the sound of that snap, the air left his lungs and his mouth dropped open in a silent scream, the muscles in his body shook at the sight of Farah being murdered and left like trash; he felt bile rise at the back of his throat. “Let’s leave him with that, shall we?” She patted Saul’s cheek twice, “Professor Harvey will fall in line or he’ll face a similar fate,” her lips lifted at the corner,” and if I know this one,” she gestured to Andreas, “you’ll wish you were dead.” Rosalind gave him a wink and left the two men to fill Luna in on Farah’s exit. 

Saul took staggering breaths, his eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in his jaw bulging against his skin. “I will kill you for this,” Saul said as he was hauled to his feet. 

Andreas grabbed Saul’s chin, and the other man could feel his teeth and bones grinding together, “you already tried that once and look how it turned out.” Andreas released him so forcefully, Saul stumbled backwards, “get him back in the car and take him to the palace.” 

This time he was thrown into the car, and he winced as the door closed on his shoulder. Saul felt as though he lived a lifetime in these minutes, his adrenaline rising and falling, his mind, body and soul having been attacked. Seeing Andreas had been a shock and brought up every moment of guilt and inadequacy that he felt over the last sixteen years, but Rosalind was terrifying, and to see her gloat after killing Farah, it made him sick.

It took everything he had not to release the scream caged in his throat. 

He hoped that what Rosalind forced him to watch was the illusion Farah planted, but it didn’t makeseeing it any easier. Saul let his head rest against the seat and took two deep breaths, focusing on Farah. He thought of her just that morning, hair fanned out against the sheets, smiling at him as he entered her a second time. Her eyes were bright and alive, her body warm and strong under his. He remembered how she whispered his name. It was then he felt it, though weaker than normal, the bond was there. Saul was overcome with gratitude, happiness and love knowing she was alive and successful. He let the tears fall freely. 

_She’s alive. She did it. She’s_ **_alive._ **

It was then with that confirmation that he felt every ounce of adrenaline leave his body, and he was left with overwhelming exhaustion. The car started and as it made its way out of the gates, Saul let his eyes rest on Alfea, the place that had been home for most of his life, and on the tall, blonde young man who watched as the car carried Saul away. 

Saul knew this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see them, but he sure as hell wondered what would be left once he made it back. 

\---------------------------------------------------

Ben had to take a seat once all of the information Farah gathered made its way to him and he managed to process all the moving parts. He could hear her voice, and see some images of her conversation with Rosalind, and he found that, once the transmission was complete, his hands were shaking. Ben was never like his friends, brazen and strong; a spine of steel. He much preferred the quiet of a library or his green house to battle or violence. That day at Aster Dell has haunted him for sixteen years, and it seems that now, with Rosalind, Luna and ( _Gods_ ) Andreas working together, there was a reckoning. 

The idea that Andreas was alive hit Ben first. He couldn’t imagine what Saul must have felt -was feeling- when he learned that information...he carried that guilt for sixteen years; Ben was worried this would leave an even deeper scar. The fact that Andreas was alive set off alarms in Ben’s mind, knowing that on the day Saul delivered what should have been a fatal blow, someone else was present at Aster Dell, or at the very least, there were other moving parts the trio was still unaware of. 

And now, knowing that Luna was arresting Saul, made it clear that she did have a hand in what went on that fateful day. Ben pressed his lips together, his mouth dry and stomach rolling. Rosalind was as dangerous as Luna, though which woman was worse, was something Ben would have to uncover on his own.

He glanced back at Sam who was supposed to be working on an assignment, but instead, Ben would bet he was texting Musa. His stomach rolled at the thought of what his children (and their friends) were going to experience with Rosalind, Andreas, and Luna. He closed his eyes and released a breath, and tried to focus. Though he didn’t have the bond that Saul and Farah shared, he would swear he could feel them, along with a shift at Alfea, as though the very magic in the earth was shuddering at the events taking place. 

They all agreed, during one of their late night meetings that they would follow the mantra of keeping up appearances until the time was right. It took everything he had to follow that plan. Ben wanted nothing more than to run to the front of the school and keep Luna’s guards from taking Saul; or to combine his magic with Farah’s and help her with Rosalind. 

He hated not being by their sides.

Farah managed to get a message to him just before the guards burst into his greenhouse, that she was successful, and waiting in the forest. Ben thanked any Gods who were listening for that. 

The appearance was so sudden and malicious, that Sam shot up from his seat at the desk, and came to stand by his father’s side. The guards explained that Alfea was under new leadership, that Rosalind was the new Headmistress, and Ms. Dowling would no longer be working at the school. 

“All students and staff are expected to attend the assembly, in the courtyard, in the next twenty minutes.” The young guard stared down at Ben, “those who don’t comply will be dealt with.” 

Ben gave a quick nod, cold sweat gathering along his temples. 

“Dad?” Sam came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, once the guards left. “What’s going on?” 

Ben adjusted his glasses and schooled his voice into one of calm, “we’ll go to the assembly and find out,” he pressed his lips together, “When Terra gets back, promise me the two of you will stay together during the assembly.” He pulled Sam into a side hug, “nothing to worry about, just some changes we’ll have to...accept.” 

Sam gave his father a weary look and left to get Terra and their friends. 

Glancing at the clock, Ben had about fourteen minutes before he would need to be in the courtyard, which was not enough time to go and retrieve Farah. He knew she would be alright out there, and she wouldn’t want him taking any unnecessary risks or possibly get caught with Rosalind and Luna on the grounds. 

He bit his lips and straightened up his work station, pulling together ingredients he would need for a few droughts and potions, should they need them over the next few days. He hid them in a false wall at the back of the room, not trusting this new regime to not confiscate items seen as dangerous to _their_ cause. The ingredients were secreted away and sealed with Ben and Farah’s magic, only opening to one of them. 

Ben checked his watch and took a deep breath, readying himself for the assembly, for seeing Rosalind and Andreas. A chill settled over his shoulders, and the school that had once been a safe haven, a home, felt more like a prison with each ticking of the clock. 

\------------------------------------

She wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep. Night had fallen, and with it came a chill that had her shaking, her coat barely enough to keep her warm. Farah knew that if Ben hadn’t come yet, there was a reason, she just hoped he’d be able to come for her soon. She was thirsty, and as she ran her tongue over her lips, it did little to abate their dryness and her thirst; her stomach was unbearably hollow. With the expulsion of so much magic, her body was weak, and though the sleep did help, she needed hydration and nutrients to get her full strength back. 

If Rosalind happened upon her now, Farah wouldn’t stand a chance. 

The tree was solid against her back as she looked up, eyes drinking in the black sky and glittering stars. She remembered countless nights where she, Saul, and Ben would sneak out after curfew and lay on the grounds, sharing a bottle of fire whiskey between them, snacking on treats stolen from the kitchen, staring up at the sky and naming constellations. Saul would always give them ridiculous names and Ben, bless him, would always correct him. And Farah, well, she was never quite as happy as she was when she had the two of them by her side. 

Her mind wandered to her friend and to the man she loved, and she prayed she’d have them by her side once again. The thought of that not happening was more painful than the physical aftermath of the illusion. 

Farah tucked her frozen hands under her arms inside her coat, letting her mind drift to Saul. It was difficult to focus, but she thought of his beautiful eyes and that smile that melted her heart, the way he said her name; and she felt the tug. It was stronger than it was before, and that made some of her worry dissipate, but she wished she could see _how_ he was; where he was. She wasn’t capable of that magic just yet. 

The snapping of a twig had her alert, her body calling on the embers of her magic, so few it was painful. Farah couldn’t tell which direction the person was coming, but she took a few deep breaths to calm herself and focus. Her body was shaking as the steps got closer, out of fear and the chill of the night. 

The footsteps stopped suddenly and she heard a hushed, “darn” and let her chin fall to her chest. 

“Ben?” 

She heard rustling through the underbrush, “Farah?” 

Ben took a few more steps until he found her. He held up his glasses sheepishly, he had dropped them, and then kneeled, pulling her into a hug, cursing softly when he felt just how cold she was. He let her go and removed his coat, wrapping it around Farah’s shoulders, and she let out a grateful hum as she slipped her arms inside. She hugged him again, her hands fisted in his sweater, and she tucked her chin into his neck. 

“Did you see him before he left?” Her voice was rough, quiet. 

“No. I’m sorry.” 

She squeezed him, neither of them moving from their embrace, “don’t apologize, Ben. It’s an impossible situation.” 

When they released one another, Ben dug around in the satchel he brought, pulling out a bottle of water, and a small scone. “I know it's not a feast, but--” 

“--it’s perfect,” she took the water gratefully, and took a few tentative sips. She learned the hard way that downing a bottle of water on an empty stomach could result in throwing it back up, and considering her current physical state, she couldn’t lose any more fluids. Farah drank and then took a bite of the scone. It was soft, and still warm; Ben must have heated it before he left to get her. 

When Ben stood he held his hand out to her, helping her to her feet. The change in elevation made her a bit lightheaded, and he grabbed her arms, keeping her steady. “Rosalind is Headmistress, Luna made her support public, and Andreas is Head Specialist.” 

Farah’s chin dropped to her chest and she closed her eyes. “She moves fast.” 

“That she does, and Luna blamed you for Rosalind’s ‘disappearance’ all these years.” Ben let his eyes wander around their surroundings, “the three of them believe you’re dead but have not shared that with the students or staff...she said you’re on the run.”

Farah shrugged, “we can work with that.” 

Ben hummed, “there are patrols out, and though they have no need to come this way, we should get moving. Can you make it?” 

She nodded, her legs stiff as she gripped Ben’s forearm. The plan was that once Ben got to Farah, he’d bring her to the abandoned barn beyond the barrier. Farah and Ben were out here a few days ago and set wards on the perimeter, and Farah used her considerable magic to place a light shield on the property. She had been right when she said Rosalind didn’t know them now. Farah has learned a lot in the years without her former mentor. 

Ben checked on the barn prior to coming to get her, and the wards were still in place, showing no sign of any disturbance, and as they got closer, he released a breath, grateful to see that they still held. 

Once inside, Ben led her to a cot, and helped her sit. Farah drank more of the water and finished the scone, the hollowness she felt, easing somewhat. She watched as Ben moved one of the shelving units revealing a hole in the wall that he and Saul created only days ago. Inside were two go bags: things Farah would need once Ben got to her. They figured that Rosalind would take Farah’s old quarters, either throwing out most of her possessions or putting them in storage, as they had done after her binding. 

Farah managed to squirrel away her most precious items (photographs of her family and friends, books, family heirlooms, things of that nature) in Ben’s false wall in his office. The bags in the barn held a few changes of clothes, blankets, personal care items, candles, matches, water, and some more food, as well as diaries, documents, photographs, and other research that the trio had managed to gather over these last few days. They couldn’t risk Rosalind or Luna finding them and knew this would be the best place, for now, to hide their discoveries. 

Farah would recharge here, checking in with Ben and trying to contact Saul. 

Placing the bags at her feet, Ben looked at his watch and bit his lip, “I need to get back, and I’m not sure if I’ll make it back before tomorrow night…” he trailed off, “I don’t like the idea of leaving you out here.” 

Farah stood, she was already visibly stronger than when he found her, the water and food helping. She went to give him back his coat, but his hand stilled her, and she smiled her thanks. “Ben, I’ll be alright and once I’m at full strength,” she shrugged, “just keep up appearances.”

“--keep up appearances, yea.” 

She smiled at him and brought him in for another hug. “When it's right I’ll come back into the school,” she sneered, “Rosalind thought she was the only one who knew the secrets of Alfea,” she raised a brow, “I have a few of my own, too.” They pulled away, but held one another’s hands, “keep the kids and yourself safe, please.” She squeezed his hand, “and whenever you’re around her you need to keep this,” Farah pointed to his head, “locked away tight. She will try to find a way to get inside.” 

“I know,” he paled at the thought. 

“If you can, when alone, let the wall down and I’ll feel it.” Farah gave him a sad smile. “I hate the idea of you being in the school alone.” 

“I’m not alone, not now.” He kissed her cheek. “If you need anything let me know, and stay inside.” 

Farah pursed her lips together, and watched as Ben left. She could feel the magic of the wards as they surrounded the barn, and she rummaged through the bag for some candles and matches, when he hand brushed something she knew she did not pack: Saul’s sweatshirt. Farah dropped herself onto the cot, her knuckles white as she gripped the fabric. Closing her eyes she brought it up to her nose, and felt herself relax as she breathed him in, citrus, bergamot, and a hint of vanilla. As she settled deeper into the cot, something fell to the ground, its rustle loud in the quiet space. Farah looked down and saw a folded piece of paper. Opening it, she felt tears spring to her eyes at the sight of his slanted handwriting. 

_No matter what happens next, know that I am with you always. I will see you soon. I love you._

Having a piece of him there with her, along with this message made her overcome with emotion. She took several deep breaths, and relaxed her shoulders, her hands resting on his sweatshirt, thumb absentmindedly caressing the Alfea crest. Farah cleared her mind, the best she could, and focused on the bond, and she nearly let out a cry at feeling it strong and hot in her chest. Farah closed her eyes, tears escaping, and matched Saul’s message, glad that wherever he was, he knew she was there, and he was not forgotten. 

Farah removed Ben’s coat so she could put on Saul’s sweatshirt, and then her coat over it. She rolled Ben’s coat to use as a pillow, and she began to light only enough candles to allow her to properly set up the cot that was stowed here. She picked a corner of the barn that gave her a full view of the few windows and the main door, and settled back on the makeshift bed, snacking on a few of the sandwiches Ben packed, and began running through what they knew and what next steps would be. 

It wouldn’t be easy, and if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t sure it could be done. But they would try, and she knew that the three of them would give their lives to make sure the students were safe and that Rosalind and her minions would get what was coming. Farah propped Ben’s coat behind her and settled under the blankets, the overwhelming emptiness and weariness she felt before was finally leaving her, and she could feel her strength coming back. 

As the minutes ticked by, Farah felt herself falling under sleep’s spell and she pulled the collar over her nose, breathing Saul in, the note tucked in her hand. 

Farah's last thoughts were that she would get to Saul, they would succeed, and the three of them would be together and safe once again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Weekend! 
> 
> This chapter was an interesting one to write. I hate not having the trio together because I love them so much and truly believe that their friendship/found family is something that is so beautiful. But it was also nice to have an opportunity to focus on one character at a time and get to know them a bit more. I just...I NEED Season Two. 
> 
> I hope you are all doing well, and if it's beautiful and springlike where you are that you get to enjoy some sunshine! Thank you as always for reading and commenting. You are all such wonderful humans. :) 
> 
> Sending love,  
> Nicole <3


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